[Return]
Archived thread

File 12413767803.jpg - (214.78KB , 694x985 , sample-e106cdfb85ffb6afc1218b05680b3e96.jpg ) [iqdb]
28203 No. 28203
Yeah, I know 16th Night!V3GoV6yRq6 is doing a fairy maid story too, but I’ve had this idea in my head for a while now, and I’m going to take it in a different, less video-gamey direction than he/she seems to be. If you don’t like it, I can always stop and think of something else, I guess. 16th Night, I hope you don’t think I’m copying you or anything, it’s just a coincidence.

Votes will be whatever’s winning whenever I feel like writing, unless I can think up something better. I think set-in-stone numbers are stupid when I’ve got no idea how many people are actually voting. I’ll tell you when I start writing. Write-ins always welcome.

Here we go.

********************************************************************************************
********************************************************************************************

A story, you say? Well…hmm…where should I begin…?

I would say that it’s best to start at the beginning. But, well, the beginning…now that’s an awful long time ago. I don’t think you have quite the time to sit though several centuries of my life, now do you? No, no, of course not. For you, I image that would be rather boring. So perhaps we can just skip ahead to the middle, to something that might interest you. But first, perhaps a small word of my past, no?

Who am I? Now that’s a question I don’t think you’ll exactly understand. Different countries and different times have called my kind many things. Spirits, sprites, essences, pixies, ghosts, illusions, fairies…yes, perhaps…I think “fairy” you might understand a little better than the others. I was born from Nature when its life was strong, and I shall return to Nature when its life is weak. A Nature spirit, if you would. The sound of leaves rustling in an autumn breeze, the babbling of a brook against smooth pebbles, the smell of rich loam within an old forest…that is what I am. As I said, I don’t think you’ll exactly understand.

In any case, the time came for me so long ago when I became more than sounds and sights and smells. I became a something, a person. A fairy, you might say. A thing that could move around with my own body, soar through the air on my own wings, and see the world with my own eyes. It was different, and yet still so wonderful. I cannot begin to describe to you the feelings I felt in those days of new life when I was young, seeing the old world I had seen for ages in such a new and exhilarating way. The years passed merrily, though my kind does not chart time as your kind does, with numbers and graphs. I sometimes wonder why you…but no matter.

It didn’t last; nothing ever does. Nature is strong, yes, but not invincible. Ages passed, and your kind prospered and grew. In some places you lived with Nature. In other places you lived against it. Now I’m not here to bring up old grudges; I’m not one of those violent kinds who harbor resentment. Still, as you numbers advanced, ours were pushed back. The weaker of our kinds faded as your belief in Nature waned, whilst the stronger fled to other parts. We are things built of magic and faith after all; we are only as strong as the world believes us to be.

I recall the times of wandering, searching for a peaceful grove only to have it spoiled by brick structures and oil smoke. The world felt like it was shrinking, and that no hidden place of refuge existed. I admit it was a very pessimistic time for me; I thought I wasn’t going to survive, after all! I had lived for long enough to know that I didn’t want to die…at least, “die” in your sense of the word. Again, it’s hard to explain.

But I found a house, a good house, a strong house. It looked new, and yet I felt that it was…old, somehow. A feeling of Nature was in that place. A feeling of Magic, and of Faith. There were females there; not human, that much I knew on sight. It seemed I was not the first fairy who had looked for shelter inside their walls, and they said I would not be the last. “Distressing times,” one of them told me, “Men just don’t believe in things anymore, not like they used to at least.” They took me in and gave me a home. Not like the hills and streams I was used to; no, not at all, but it felt…safe. I think I knew even then that the world was changing. Hills and streams stretching from horizon to horizon, unbroken, beautiful…their time had passed. I had to change with the world, or perish. We all did.

And so we lived there, inside that mystic mansion. It was our new home, and so we kept it safe, safe and clean. Maybe not as “clean” as you humans would want it kept, or even the strong ones we served wanted it kept, but no matter what you do to a fairy, a fairy they remain. You can dress us up in nice clothes and nice hair, give us a feathered wand and tell us to dust the shelves, and we will dust them; we’re not stupid like some say we are. We just…well, we don’t always see the deeper reasons behind your “tidiness” and your “order”. You always want everything so organized, so perfect, so…controlled. Sometimes I want to laugh at you for trying to control the uncontrollable. I guess neither of us will ever really understand each other.

I don’t remember anything specific about my first years there; my memories aren’t exactly arranged like yours are. But there came a time…a time when everything seemed to change for me. I still can’t really explain it myself, but for all my indifference about numbers, I can still remember the exact date on the calendar: It was April 11, in the year 1996. I think it was a…Tuesday, maybe…?

The sun had already set for the day, and some stars were shining in the sky. It was a time when many of the other fairies were finishing their assigned tasks for the day, or had already been finished for a while, and were getting ready to enjoy the night at their own leisure. I myself was busy polishing some of the silver light fixtures on the fourth floor at the time, feeling somewhat alone and lower-class as I saw some of my kin floating past me to their rooms. Turning my head to the side as I wiped the artificial-smelling polish from the shining surface, I sighed. The last one. It was pretty good from this angle…

[ ] …but I gave it a quick second coat just to make sure. The Mistress isn’t a big fan of “pretty good” after all.
[ ] …but I knew I could do better, and prepared myself to give all the lights a double-checking, despite knowing how it would cut into my free time.
[ ] …and I didn’t really feel like staying any longer, so I floated back down to the ground and wandered through the halls with (the library / the kitchen / my room / a bath / the garden / the orchard / the front lawn) in mind.

>> No. 28204
[ ] …but I knew I could do better, and prepared myself to give all the lights a double-checking, despite knowing how it would cut into my free time.
>> No. 28205
[x] …but I knew I could do better, and prepared myself to give all the lights a double-checking, despite knowing how it would cut into my free time.
>> No. 28206
[x] …but I knew I could do better, and prepared myself to give all the lights a double-checking, despite knowing how it would cut into my free time.

Pretty good intro, even by the Mistress' standards. I like it!
>> No. 28209
[X] …and I didn’t really feel like staying any longer, so I floated back down to the ground and wandered through the halls with a bath in mind.

As always, I vote for the bathing option. Such is my tradition.
>> No. 28210
[X] …and I didn’t really feel like staying any longer, so I floated back down to the ground and wandered through the halls with a bath in mind.

You have to take a bath.
You have to take a bath.
Can't you feel it? During the night, while you slept, it came upon you. Grease. Grease, on every centimeter of your skin, from your fingertips to your face. Touch your cheek, quickly now—quickly! Surely you feel it now, how slippery, how utterly vile it has become. Everywhere. Everywhere.
>> No. 28211
>>28203
I know, we talked, you don't have to pretend we didn't. It's cool, I like your ideas and we're writing very, very different stories anyway.

[X] …and I didn’t really feel like staying any longer, so I floated back down to the ground and wandered through the halls with a bath in mind.
>> No. 28213
[x] …but I knew I could do better, and prepared myself to give all the lights a double-checking, despite knowing how it would cut into my free time.

Baths are for servants who finish their work.
>> No. 28214
[X] …and I didn’t really feel like staying any longer, so I floated back down to the ground and wandered through the halls with the front lawn in mind.
>> No. 28215
[x] …but I knew I could do better, and prepared myself to give all the lights a double-checking, despite knowing how it would cut into my free time.
>> No. 28216
[x] …but I knew I could do better, and prepared myself to give all the lights a double-checking, despite knowing how it would cut into my free time.
>> No. 28229
[X] …and I didn’t really feel like staying any longer, so I floated back down to the ground and wandered through the halls with a bath in mind.
>> No. 28261
6 votes for staying and double-cleaning the lights.
3 votes for taking a bath.
1 vote for hanging out on the front lawn.

Double-cleaning the lights it is, then. Should have the next update posted tonight. Thanks for all the votes, I really appreciate it!

>>28206
Thank you~

EDIT: Little bit of writer’s block tonight, delaying the update until tomorrow morning. Sage for not helping.

EDIT EDIT: Nevermind, I figured it out. Sage for confusing you all.
>> No. 28262
>The sun had already set for the day, and some stars were shining in the sky. It was a time when many of the other fairies were finishing their assigned tasks for the day, or had already been finished for a while, and were getting ready to enjoy the night at their own leisure. I myself was busy polishing some of the silver light fixtures on the fourth floor at the time, feeling somewhat alone and lower-class as I saw some of my kin floating past me to their rooms. Turning my head to the side as I wiped the artificial-smelling polish from the shining surface, I sighed. The last one. It was pretty good from this angle,
but I knew I could do better, and prepared myself to give all the lights a double-checking, despite knowing how it would cut into my free time. The fourth floor is where the Mistress’s quarters are, after all, not to mention those of my Head Maid. They see these lights more than anyone else in this mansion, every day, and if they found a problem…Well, it’s not like they’d punish me, but there’s still something there, like I’d be letting them down if I didn’t try harder.

Shaking up the bottle of silver polish for what felt like the fiftieth time that day, I put more of that grey ooze onto the soft rag and started buffing, looking longingly out the only window I could see. I was never the fastest at these sort of things; plenty of my kin finished these mundane tasks faster and better than me, meaning I had to work twice as hard to keep up, or even pull ahead. I tried not to think about the things I could have been doing besides all this busywork, and kept what parts of my mind I could focused on those curving silver fixtures, rather than dreams of what could have been.

How long did that second round take again? Two hours, maybe three? By the time I could count how many lights I had left on one hand, there was hardly a sound to be heard aside from the squeaking of my rag on the metal and the faraway tock, tock, tock of the mansion’s clocktower above me. I thought that perhaps I could just call it good and maybe find the time to enjoy myself a little before I retired, when a visitor came up the lift.

One of the few human maids in the mansion, it was, wheeling a janitorial cart out into the hallway. Though Mistress Remilia preferred her staff to be fairies, she rarely rejected any human applicants who wanted a job, few though they were. As you might guess, the mansion was considered…strange, by the humans in the province, to say the least. A manor where servants flew on fairy wings and rooms were larger inside than they were out could hardly be called anything less.

I’ve always made an effort to try and distinguish my co-workers from each other, especially the human ones, but it’s…difficult for us. You humans, you can tell each other apart, but not always other creatures, no? I won’t say that it’s precisely the same, but I think it’s close enough. So when I say that I didn’t recognize her nor remember her name at the time, I hope you’ll understand that it wasn’t entirely my fault.

Nevertheless, her presence there didn’t set well with me, especially with that janitorial cart. I could have accepted it if her quarters were on the fourth floor (like I said, I was ill-informed of my co-workers’ personal matters), but why would anyone start cleaning at such a late hour, and especially a human of all people? I don’t claim to know all your customs, but I do know that midnight is a time best meant for sleep, not work, yes? She seemed equally surprised to see me, however, so at least in this fact we could relate.

“Oh, good evening!” I said to the woman, tipping my head in her direction. “Forgive me, but I didn’t expect to see anyone working up here so late.”

“I could say the same thing to you, little fairy,” the woman replied, hardly even looking me in the eye. One of those haughty humans, she was, the kind who thought fairies were below them on some kind of chain of life. So few of them will even believe in a fairy; why must so many of those who do treat such belief with contempt?

I wavered in my response, blushing slightly at my incompetence. “Oh, I…Well, I’m just, just finishing up these lights here. I’m not quite used to this yet, I’ve been working up here since lunch, I’m afraid.”

She shrugged and began to wheel the cart around the lift and down a small hallway. “Well, don’t mind me; Lady Remilia just wanted me to tidy up a little mess in her chambers, immediately. Boss’s orders, unfortunately, so I couldn’t refuse, even at such a late hour. You know how it is, I assume.”

“Mmm, yes, it wouldn’t do to disobey,” I replied, more intent on my polishing cloth than her actual words. It took me just a few seconds of thought to realize a small error, though. Lady Remilia’s chambers…no one is allowed in Lady Remilia’s chambers, no one but the Head Maid. Ever. No exceptions. Mistress Remilia made that very clear to me my first week here.

As I wiped clean the last of the residual polish…

[ ] …I decided it wasn’t my place to meddle in the other maids’ affairs, not when it involves the Mistress. I am rather uninformed of things, after all. And if I hurried, perhaps I could still (visit the library / grab something from the kitchen / take a bath / walk the garden path / visit the orchard / lounge on the front lawn) before sleeping.
[ ] …that feeling in my mind just wouldn’t go away. No one but the Head Maid, no exceptions. I felt I needed to remind the human of that; perhaps she forgot?
[ ] …the oddity of this woman’s presence just grew too great for me to bear. Something was wrong. Something important. Something I should stop.
>> No. 28263
[ ] …that feeling in my mind just wouldn’t go away. No one but the Head Maid, no exceptions. I felt I needed to remind the human of that; perhaps she forgot?
>> No. 28264
[X] …that feeling in my mind just wouldn’t go away. No one but the Head Maid, no exceptions. I felt I needed to remind the human of that; perhaps she forgot?
Remilia must enjoy feeding on young maidens once in a while.
>> No. 28265
[X] …the oddity of this woman’s presence just grew too great for me to bear. Something was wrong. Something important. Something I should stop.

Halt.
>> No. 28270
[x] …the oddity of this woman’s presence just grew too great for me to bear. Something was wrong. Something important. Something I should stop.

An assassin?
>> No. 28272
[X] …the oddity of this woman’s presence just grew too great for me to bear. Something was wrong. Something important. Something I should stop.

STOP! You've violated the law!
>> No. 28273
[X] …the oddity of this woman’s presence just grew too great for me to bear. Something was wrong. Something important. Something I should stop.

STOP RIGHT THERE, CRIMINAL SCUM!
>> No. 28274
[X] …the oddity of this woman’s presence just grew too great for me to bear. Something was wrong. Something important. Something I should stop.


FAIRIES HAVE TAKEN OVER /SDM/
>> No. 28281
5 votes for stopping the human maid.
2 votes for reminding the human maid that no means no.

Another clear winner! Writing now…
>> No. 28283
[X] …the oddity of this woman’s presence just grew too great for me to bear. Something was wrong. Something important. Something I should stop.
>> No. 28287
>As I wiped clean the last of the residual polish,
the oddity of this woman’s presence just grew too great for me to bear. Something was wrong. Something important. Something I should stop. No exceptions meant no exceptions; even a weaker fairy on her first day there could understand what “no” meant, and that meant a human should be able to understand it even better. I mean, in my mind, you humans are used to taking precise orders from your superiors, yes? Not like fairies; much more whimsical and carefree, we are. It’s not uncommon to see one of my younger cousins lollygagging about where she should not be, and Mistress Remilia is usually pretty understanding, if begrudgingly. A human, though…

I set back down on the ground and approached the woman, raising a hand and calling out to her. “Wait, halt! Don’t you know that no one is allowed inside the Mistress’s chambers, even with permission? I think maybe she’s just testing you. You should leave.”

She took her hands off the hard and raised them up indignantly, her back turned to me. “Hey, look, I just know what I heard, and I’m doing what I was told. Just…go back to polishing or whatever you were doing, I’m fine, thank you.”

“No, you shouldn’t go in there. It’s probably a trick; you know the Mistress plays tricks every now and then, right? You’re probably a whole lot smarter than me; use your brain!”

“Oh? Then if I’m smarter than you, why are you the one telling me what to do? I can handle myself, stupid fairy, just leave me alone!” She looked at me with anger in her eyes, lording her height as well as her humanity over me (fairies, as you might know, aren’t much bigger than human children). I really felt quite small at the time, but…well, I always felt small, small and average. It wasn’t really like me to stand up to anyone, human or otherwise, but after all, that was the day my life changed, after all. I still remember how I felt back then, all the thoughts that were going through my head…

Just give up. She said she knows what she’s doing.

But she said! No exceptions, never!

So, maybe this is special; you don’t know, does the Mistress tell you everything?

Well, no, but…no exceptions! This human could be someone dangerous even! A spy!

And so what? You’re just a little fairy, what can you do?

I…I…

You’re weak. She’s strong. All you’d get is pain. Just let it go.

But…this is wrong…not right…I have to try, try to stop her!

…It won’t matter…

But I have to try, try harder…I’m always telling myself I need to try harder…


Before I knew it, I had actually reached out and grabbed the woman’s wrist, tugging on it like the pitiful child I was. “No. You shouldn’t be here. Please leave.”

She yanked her hand away from mine like I was some kind of snake. Her eyes…she was someone bad even.

“You…How dare you touch me, you little witch.”

A hand…a strong hand closed around my neck, choking me, cutting off my air. The maid looked at me with an immense hatred, hatred I had only before imagined in my nightmares. I scrabbled my weak hands against the vice-like grip, but to no avail. She rummaged around the hidden shelves of the cart, eventually procuring a long, silvery knife, in the shape of a Christian cross.

“Why don’t you all just go back to Hell where you BELONG?!”

As her voice changed from that cold message to a venomous hiss, I felt the dagger plunge into my chest, and she cast me down to the ground. Agony, pain excruciating! It spread like a wildfire from the stake in my chest to the fingers of my hands. I was blinded by it, immobilized by it, intoxicated by it. Why wouldn’t it end, please, I just wanted it to end…anything to make it stop…stop…ssssstopppp-p-p…

The burning dulled into an oppressive throb, low enough for me to realize what had happened. The woman…she had tried to kill me, stuck a blade through my heart…Or, at least, where a human’s heart would have been. Perhaps she didn’t know about fairies at the time; she might have been new to the mansion. New enough not to know that fairies don’t die like humans die. You wound us, we feel pain. You cut our legs off, we fall down. But we aren’t made of flesh and bone like you are, no; we’re composed of the very aethers of magic itself. And those aethers don’t really care about things like knives and guns, not very much, no.

But dead or alive, I was still on the ground, weak and helpless against this woman who seemed to want only death for the entire mansion. From my view on the ground I could see much more clearly now: underneath the cloth sheet of the cart lay materials of all kinds. Pistols, silver stakes, crucifixes, cloves of garlic, odd bottles of ordinary water…she must have been a vampire hunter, or at least something of the sort. As she wheeled the cart ever nearer to the Mistress’s door…

[ ] …I could only lay there, afraid, too afraid of the pain to try and fail again.
[ ] …I crawled to my feet and rushed towards the woman, determined to drag her away until my body turned to dust.
[ ] …I wrenched the blade from my chest and prepared to strike this enemy of the Mistress.
[ ] …I summoned what air I could from my asphyxiated lungs and cried out a warning to the Mistress.
>> No. 28292
[ ] …I wrenched the blade from my chest and prepared to strike this enemy of the Mistress.
>> No. 28294
[ ] …I wrenched the blade from my chest and prepared to strike this enemy of the Mistress.
>> No. 28295
[x] …I wrenched the blade from my chest and prepared to strike this enemy of the Mistress.
>> No. 28296
[x] …I wrenched the blade from my chest and prepared to strike this enemy of the Mistress.
>> No. 28302
[x] …I wrenched the blade from my chest and prepared to strike this enemy of the Mistress.
>> No. 28304
[x] …I summoned what air I could from my asphyxiated lungs and cried out a warning to the Mistress.

Cleaning stop!
>> No. 28323
[x] …I wrenched the blade from my chest and prepared to strike this enemy of the Mistress.

I... Still... Function!
>> No. 28326
6 votes for using the knife
1 vote for yelling a warning

No contest here; writing as soon as I finish mowing the lawn…

Oh, and just to let you know, no BAD ENDs in this story; fairies don’t die, and respawning won’t cost any penalty besides a little unconsciousness. Feel free to take some risks if you want, I won’t hold them against you.
>> No. 28338
>>28326

Hooray!
>> No. 28340
>>28326
>>Oh, and just to let you know, no BAD ENDs in this story; fairies don’t die, and respawning won’t cost any penalty besides a little unconsciousness. Feel free to take some risks if you want, I won’t hold them against you.

I can't help but feel that this won't end well.
>> No. 28343
>>28340

It worked in RAN. Why not?
>> No. 28346
>But dead or alive, I was still on the ground, weak and helpless against this woman who seemed to want only death for the entire mansion. From my view on the ground I could see much more clearly now: underneath the cloth sheet of the cart lay materials of all kinds. Pistols, silver stakes, crucifixes, cloves of garlic, odd bottles of ordinary water…she must have been a vampire hunter, or at least something of the sort. As she wheeled the cart ever nearer to the Mistress’s door,
I wrenched the blade from my chest and prepared to strike this enemy of the Mistress. The pain, ahh, how it hurt! Even as I watched my breast knit itself closed within seconds, the stinging hurt and the memory of it remained. It doubled my vision and made my arms feel weak, but I had to try and ignore it. A vampire hunter, in the house of a vampire…I had to do something, even if it only stalled her long enough for real help to come. I had never…never attacked anyone before, never caused true harm to anything intentionally. I didn’t think of such things then, of course, but it wouldn’t be long before I did...

Reaching out as far as my arm could reach, I took a swipe at the woman’s ankles, closing my eyes tightly as I felt the knife slice across her skin, not wishing to see the destruction I had just caused. She gasped and swore at me as her stance faltered and she fell into the janitorial…no, the weapons cart. It clattered and jangled forwards, eventually hitting Mistress Remilia’s doors with a loud crash.

Before another breath could be taken, I felt a familiar gust of magic wash over me; faint, as always. Now I’m no master of recognizing mystic signals, but any fairy who’s lived for even a year inside that mansion can feel it when our Head Maid stops time not five meters away. It’s not exactly a pleasant feeling, I can tell you that much; sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be one of you humans, to not feel every twinge of time and space being stopped and started again. It’s like…like your soul blinking irregularly, closing its eyes only to open them in a completely different place. Jarring, that would be a good word to use.

But I’m getting too far away from the story, I think.

In a heartbeat the assassin was on the ground, her hands, legs, and mouth bound with that thick duct tape humans enjoyed so very much in that age. My superior, Sakuya, stood over her, observing the struggling human and checking her bonds. Sakuya…That was the only personal title us fairies were ever given to identify her by. Was it her first name, her last name, a title, a riddle…a lie? I’d never been able to make heads nor tails of it, and it had never really matted much to me anyways. I knew her in other ways besides a simple name.

Satisfied with the woman’s situation, she pushed aside the toppled cart of weapons and cleaning supplies and knocked on Mistress Remilia’s door hurriedly. After a few moments the elder one emerged from her chambers, her appearance one of a girl woken hastily from slumber without time to prepare herself. A simple red night-skirt clung to her small form, and she rubbed sleep from her scarlet eyes. It never really set well with me, her taking the form of a child not even ten when her age approached nearly five hundred. I wondered often if she wished to spite us fairies with such an image.

“Another one?” Lady Remilia asked her friend, yawning.

Sakuya nodded. “Another one. Well-stocked but ill-prepared, this time. I don’t think it’d be worth your time to humor her tonight.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Resting herself on the ground with her legs tucked behind her, Remilia looked at the assassin curiously as Sakuya tidied up the fallen cart. I knew better than to get involved with the Mistress’s prey, and scooted myself against the wall, trying to appear as small as possible. Remilia…I could count on my fingers the number of times I actually recalled hearing her talk, and all I would have needed were my toes to count how many I’d seen her as well. She was so very odd to me, so mysterious. A vampire…now that fact only took a few months to get used to. I had nothing to fear from vampirism, having no blood to suck. But she was…old, old and experienced, and yet she seemed to treat everything as a child would, like a game or a toy for her to play with. But I must remind you, us fairies knew hardly anything about our lofty employer; she didn’t care much to mingle with what I once overheard her say as “rabble”.

The Mistress peeled off the tape covering the woman’s mouth, smirking as she was met with a barrage of curses and religious oaths, the only ones I can remember being:

”You filthy witch, you wretched little Satan-spawn, may God our Father damn you back to Hell until Judgment Day! Devil’s harlot, the power of Christ compels you!”

Rolling her eyes, Remilia replaced the tape so her snide reply would go unmolested. “If I want the power of Christ to compel me, I think I’ll open up a Bible. And believe it or not, it actually doesn’t burn the eyes out of my skull on sight. Where’d you learn how to kill a vampire anyways, Hollywood movies? You’re giving slayers a bad name. Do your research next time. No bullets, only blades. Silver? I believe you have me confused with a werewolf. Garlic? Works most of the time, but I think it goes well with a loaf of French bread. Now…you!”

The floor grew silent for quite a while, until Remilia spoke up again. “Little maid, you, by the wall! Are you competent enough to tell me what you saw?”

Me? Mistress Remilia was…talking to…me? She hadn’t talked to me directly since…since I had come to the mansion six years ago (or was it seven? Eight? I never kept a good count). I was frozen. She never talks to the fairies, not if she can help it. To be addressed by the Mistress—even with that demanding tongue of hers…

[ ] …it turned my lips to stone. I couldn’t answer, I couldn’t even manage a whimper. All I could do was shake my head and cower, averting my eyes away from hers.
[ ] …it was all I could do to stammer out what few, pitiful words I did. It was less than any other fairy could have done, but I was…I was never very strong.
[ ] …I, I didn’t want to tell her the truth. I was scared. I just wanted to tell her something simple. Something that would get me out of there as fast as possible.
[ ] …I had to obey; she asked me a question. It was my duty to protect her, and it was my duty to tell her what happened. All I had to do was tell her what I saw…
>> No. 28347
[ ] …I had to obey; she asked me a question. It was my duty to protect her, and it was my duty to tell her what happened. All I had to do was tell her what I saw…
>> No. 28348
[x] …I had to obey; she asked me a question. It was my duty to protect her, and it was my duty to tell her what happened. All I had to do was tell her what I saw…

A hardworker
>> No. 28349
[x] …I had to obey; she asked me a question. It was my duty to protect her, and it was my duty to tell her what happened. All I had to do was tell her what I saw…
>> No. 28350
>>28346

Question, why do add the ">" lines at the beginning of each of your updates?
>> No. 28351
[x] …I had to obey; she asked me a question. It was my duty to protect her, and it was my duty to tell her what happened. All I had to do was tell her what I saw…
>> No. 28353
[x] …I had to obey; she asked me a question. It was my duty to protect her, and it was my duty to tell her what happened. All I had to do was tell her what I saw…

YES MY LORD
>> No. 28354
>>Silver? I believe you have me confused with a werewolf.

I thought silver was listed among a vampire's weaknesses on the touhou wiki.
>> No. 28355
>>28354

Silver is a common weakness for monsters. There's some speculation, in fact, that the reason vampires are thought not to have reflections is that silver used to be one of the main materials used in the construction of mirrors.
>> No. 28356
>>28354

She could just be fucking with her.

As it looks like she's going to let her go, Remilia may just be blowing disinformation toward a source of future trouble and amusement.

According to Sakuya, she at least had some of the correct elements down:
>Well-stocked but ill-prepared, this time.
>> No. 28357
[x] …I had to obey; she asked me a question. It was my duty to protect her, and it was my duty to tell her what happened. All I had to do was tell her what I saw…

I love the personality contrasts this character has with the protagonist of the other fairy maid story.
>> No. 28358
>>28346
[X] …I had to obey; she asked me a question. It was my duty to protect her, and it was my duty to tell her what happened. All I had to do was tell her what I saw…

Mmm, a splendid array of options. All truthfull, but only one belies this fairy's sense of duty and dedication to those who would foster her and her kind.
>> No. 28360
[x] …I had to obey; she asked me a question. It was my duty to protect her, and it was my duty to tell her what happened. All I had to do was tell her what I saw…

Seems a little bold for a fairy, but well.
>> No. 28362
[ze] …I had to obey; she asked me a question. It was my duty to protect her, and it was my duty to tell her what happened. All I had to do was tell her what I saw…

Something to consider: how did a Christian get into Gensokyo?

>>28356
Interesting point.
>> No. 28364
[x] …I had to obey; she asked me a question. It was my duty to protect her, and it was my duty to tell her what happened. All I had to do was tell her what I saw…
>> No. 28366
[x] …I had to obey; she asked me a question. It was my duty to protect her, and it was my duty to tell her what happened. All I had to do was tell her what I saw…
>> No. 28368
>>28362

Since it seems we're in a land that is inhospitable to fairies, this may be before moving to Gensokyo, or in a future where it has drastically changed.
>> No. 28370
11 votes for telling it like it is.

Are you people collaborating or something? Wow. Writing once I’ve taken a shower.

>>28350
If you noticed, the updates and the votes fit together perfectly, finishing sentences for each other. I put the “>” in there so you can read the entire paragraph as it should be without stopping (but it’s not new text, just a repost, hence the “>”). If it’s annoying I can stop.

>>28354
>>28355
>>28356
>She could just be fucking with her.
Pretty much. The assassin didn’t actually get a hit off, so she wouldn’t know which of her weapons would have actually done anything. Remi’s just being a manipulative little brat, as always.

But for future reference, I might be going against ZUN canon from time to time when I feel it’s restrictive, or just plain stupid. Such as the vampire weaknesses issue: I know for a fact I’m not going to follow ZUN all the way on that, I just haven’t quite decided how far. Mainly I just don’t want to search through every bloody page in the Touhou Wiki to get my facts straight. If you think I’m making too big a deviation, tell me and I’ll let you know what’s up.

>>28358
Thanks~ I’m trying to go for a realistic feel here. Guess it’s going all right.
>> No. 28371
…I had to obey; she asked me a question. It was my duty to protect her, and it was my duty to tell her what happened. All I had to do was tell her what I saw. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous, but it wasn’t that kind of fearful nervousness you might feel when talking to, say, a mafia boss. More like…I’d say like a job interview. It doesn’t really hurt if you screw up, but it still…well, it still “hurts” in other ways, I suppose. I hope you can understand it that way.

I stood up and bowed to my Lady, making my best efforts not to stammer my words. “Yes, Mistress Remilia. I was polishing the lights, as per my daily chore schedule, when I saw this woman come up the lift, pushing that cart. She said, umm…She said that the Head Maid had ordered she clean up a mess in your room, my Lady. But…no one’s allowed in your room except Sakuya, ever! No exceptions; you always told us all no exceptions. I tried to, to make her leave, and then she attacked me, stabbed me with this knife.” I held up the weapon to illustrate, and only just then realized it was stained with blood. Granted, I knew it would be, but…seeing it there, in my hands…I had drawn the blood of a living creature. It wasn’t in self-defense, even, I…I had done it all on my own…

“So you stabbed her back, then,” Remilia commented, realizing that I had fallen into a silent stupor starting at the knife. I nodded quietly.

“I…I didn’t know what else to do. I thought she was…trying to kill you, Mistress.”

“Yes, yes she was. She wouldn’t have succeeded, not if she had a lifetime of chances, but she was. How did it feel?”

“I don’t…Well, I guess I felt…scared, scared for you, my Lady. I’m just a fairy, after all; I don’t know what can hurt you and what can’t.”

“So why not yell for help? Why not just pull her back? Why the knife?”

Why was she asking me all these questions? I’d never heard her talk so much in an entire year, and now she was…having a conversation with me? She didn’t care about us very much; not in a personal sense. She wanted us to stay safe, yes, but beyond that, we were just pawns in a chess game, and she had more important pieces to deal with. It was just a foolish assassin; we got a handful every year on average. Why did she care about what I did? Still, she asked, so I answered.

“I guess…I wanted to be braver. I wanted to try harder. I’m not the best at anything; Sakuya could tell you that, I would think. I just wanted to do a good job. I couldn’t have pulled her back; I’m too little. And yelling…well, I guess I didn’t think of that, Miss. I’m sorry. You’re not angry with me, are you?”

I wished I hadn’t said that as soon as the words were spoken. I had…asked Lady Remilia a question! A question about herself, even! Such audacity shouldn’t have even entered my mind. If she wasn’t angry with me before, surely she was now. But all she did was smile, poking her two ivory fangs out from her lips.

“Hardly. I wish I’d see more of my staff try harder like you just did.” She nudged Sakuya in the side, who squirmed a little but made no reply. An inside joke, perhaps? The maid pointed to the still-present assassin on the ground.

“What should I do with this one, then, since I’m apparently not doing enough for you?” she asked plainly.

“It was a joke, silly girl, honestly now. Lighten up more!” She sighed and tapped her foot on the bound interloper, noticing her bleeding ankle. Dipping a finger into the blood, she stuck out her tongue and took a small lick. “Mediocre at best, but we’ll keep her anyways. Put her into an empty room for now. Lock the door this time; you forgot with our last one.”

“Can you please not bring that up again? I said I was sorry.”

The two exchanged some hushed words for a time, light-hearted ones I assumed due to their smiles, but I wasn’t about to eavesdrop after being complimented like I was. Complimented…she, she complimented me! She even said she wanted more people to be like me! It was too much, too much for a little fairy like me to even imagine at the time. To actually be appreciated for doing something…for work to be more than just work. I started to wonder, did Remilia truly appreciate everything me and my kin did for her, and just never told us? It was only a foolish idea at the time, but I found it hard to put down.

“I’ve got a request for you, little fairy,” Remilia told me suddenly, her other conversation finished. “Sakuya’s been juggling you fairies’ schedules around for a while now, and we’re in need of someone to wait on my sister on Fridays. You said you wanted to be braver; do you think you could handle that? Do you think you’re…brave enough?”

Her sister…Flandre? Remilia’s own…but she’s…if it was any other job, I wouldn’t have thought of refusing but…Flandre?! It was no secret in the mansion that the Mistress’s sister was mad, mad beyond hope. Rumors were as thick as flies in a bog about her: she was mentally retarded, or else mentally sick, or maybe she didn’t even have a brain anymore and was just an animal, or else a robot of some kind. She destroyed all she touched, or maybe all she looked at, or whatever she thought about, or she made you think she destroyed it. She had been adopted; no, she was older than Remilia; no, she was Remilia’s twin; no, she was secretly her daughter. I’d seen her only once in the flesh, a few years ago, peeking down the basement hallways at night. She hadn’t said a word, or even looked at me. But even then I could tell…the smell of magic around her was enough for me to know. There was something different about her. Something I didn’t understand. I was told long ago not to fear Flandre, not to listen to whispers of the past, but I had heard the testimony of those who had “waited” on her before, and I didn’t like what I heard.

[ ] Was it wrong to fear this request? Because I was afraid. Too afraid to accept this, even from Remilia herself. It was too big for me…
[ ] Yes, I wanted to be braver…but not this brave. Anything else…anything at all, and I would be hers. Anything but this. Please…just give me something besides this…
[ ] Could I handle it? Perhaps not. But I could at least try. I could try for my Mistress, at least once…
[ ] And yet…I was rewarded tonight for doing what I was afraid to do. I feared Flandre, yes. But perhaps if I did this, I would fear her no longer. Rumors were just rumors, after all.
>> No. 28372
[ ] Could I handle it? Perhaps not. But I could at least try. I could try for my Mistress, at least once…
>> No. 28373
[x] And yet…I was rewarded tonight for doing what I was afraid to do. I feared Flandre, yes. But perhaps if I did this, I would fear her no longer. Rumors were just rumors, after all.

Are we just thrown in at the deep end or is someone going to show us the ropes?
>> No. 28374
File 124154434739.jpg - (23.03KB , 400x400 , courage wolf - wounds.jpg ) [iqdb]
28374
[X] And yet…I was rewarded tonight for doing what I was afraid to do. I feared Flandre, yes. But perhaps if I did this, I would fear her no longer. Rumors were just rumors, after all.
>> No. 28375
>>28371
>I was told long ago not to fear Flandre, not to listen to whispers of the past,
Huh. That doesn't sound too bad, just rumors and...

>but I had heard the testimony of those who had “waited” on her before, and I didn’t like what I heard.
...crap. Well, on the plus side, she heard first hand testimony from traumatized fairies about Flandre, so they at least didn't stay dead.

[X] And yet…I was rewarded tonight for doing what I was afraid to do. I feared Flandre, yes. But perhaps if I did this, I would fear her no longer. Rumors were just rumors, after all.

I know what drives me. Introduction fairy sounds so calm and cool; fairy from 10+ years ago is all jittery. I must vote to reconcile them.
>> No. 28376
[x] Could I handle it? Perhaps not. But I could at least try. I could try for my Mistress, at least once…

You've piqued my interest, insofar I've been quite impressed. Keep up the good work, Tepes.
>> No. 28377
[X] And yet…I was rewarded tonight for doing what I was afraid to do. I feared Flandre, yes. But perhaps if I did this, I would fear her no longer. Rumors were just rumors, after all.
>> No. 28378
[X] And yet…I was rewarded tonight for doing what I was afraid to do. I feared Flandre, yes. But perhaps if I did this, I would fear her no longer. Rumors were just rumors, after all.
>> No. 28379
[X] And yet…I was rewarded tonight for doing what I was afraid to do. I feared Flandre, yes. But perhaps if I did this, I would fear her no longer. Rumors were just rumors, after all.

Well, the fact that there are still some fairies left to give testimony is a good sign.
>> No. 28380
>nervousness you might feel when talking to, say, a mafia boss.

How does fairy know what mafia boss is?
This raises the question what fairies do in their freetime. Goofing off watching cheap rental videos?
>> No. 28381
[X] And yet…I was rewarded tonight for doing what I was afraid to do. I feared Flandre, yes. But perhaps if I did this, I would fear her no longer. Rumors were just rumors, after all.
>> No. 28382
>>28370
>Mainly I just don’t want to search through every bloody page in the Touhou Wiki to get my facts straight.

ಠ_ಠ

Because being informed is for fags, amirite?

I do like that bit of speculation on Flandre, though: You managed to believably portray every fan theory on her as gossip, neatly avoiding the fourth wall entirely.

I like that.

>>28371
I'm thinking about this too hard, I'm sure of it.
However:
>when talking to, say, a mafia boss.
Retrospective and Astronomical Narration

>stained with blood
A Scarlet-Stained Memoir

>So why not yell for help?
MiG
>> No. 28387
7 votes for accepting completely.
2 votes for trying it out just once.

Easy does it. Writing now, but probably won’t update until tomorrow morning.

>>28376
I really appreciate it. Glad you like it, and I’ll do my best!

>>28380
I probably should have used a better word there. But I hope the next update might explain why she knows a little better.

>>28382
I didn’t say I wouldn’t read any of it, I just don’t want to be forced to read all of it for the sake of knowing every piece of canon. I know a lot already, I just don’t want to take the time to learn every little detail of Meiling’s hair length and how old Patchouli is in minutes. But thanks for the Flandre bit; didn’t know there were that many crazy fan-theories out there.
>> No. 28391
>>28387
>I probably should have used a better word there.

Not complaining at all. It just caught my attention and got me thinking. And that's a good thing.
>> No. 28395
And yet…I was rewarded tonight for doing what I was afraid to do. I feared Flandre, yes. But perhaps if I did this, I would fear her no longer. Rumors were just rumors, after all.

“Miss, I…I don’t know if I’m brave enough to look after your sister; I’m only just a fairy after all. But…I’m brave enough to say yes.”

She looked at me, with those red red eyes of hers. “Scared?”

“…Yes, my Lady. A little.”

“Well don’t be. Thought I told all you sprites Flan’s no one to be afraid of. She really is a sweet little girl if you give her the time. I just don’t think any of you really want to try. And that’s just disappointing.”

Such were the ways of Lady Remilia, I gathered. Someone who could compliment you and criticize you all in the same conversation. Her ego was second to none in the mansion, and she used it however she desired. Not wishing to let her down, I tried to answer her implied question as best I could.

“I don’t…want to disappoint you, Miss Remilia.”

“Hmm? You don’t, or you won’t?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Uhh…I don’t know.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, at least you’re not lying to me. You start tomorrow, eight A.M. sharp. Sakuya’s door, bright and early; she’ll explain what you’ll need to know. You have an alarm clock?”

“No, Miss.”

As if on cue, another pinch of time emanated from Sakuya, and she handed me a ticking brass alarm clock, old-fashioned for a date so late in the twentieth century. Not that I minded; things from older times felt much more…kind, I would say. More personal. Perhaps you might feel the same way about a few things of your own.

“That alarm’s set for seven o’ clock,” Sakuya told me. “More than enough time to make it up here by eight. Please don’t be late; I run my schedule to the minute.”

I accepted the gift gladly, but realized my hands were already full with the assassin’s knife. I tried to hand it to Remilia, but she just shied away and held up her hand.

“I don’t need that thing; you keep it. Call it a souvenir of bravery. Who knows when you might need it again.”

A knife, as a souvenir of bravery? More like a souvenir of impurity, is what I thought at the time. Remilia might not have known when I’d need it again, but I certainly knew I didn’t need it. It was just an impulse, a one-time attack at the spur of the moment. She didn’t really expect me to use a weapon like that again…did she?

My business there concluded, I thanked them both heartily for their kindness, and for my new position as a so-called maid-in-waiting to Flandre, even though I was inwardly schizophrenic about the whole thing. My past told me to be afraid, from the rumors I heard and the maids I listened to. And yet, my present to me not to. Flandre’s own sister said she wasn’t someone to be feared, and who would know better than her? And as I rode the lift back down to the basement and my humble room on the back wall, I stared at that knife, still shiny with that woman’s blood. My blood would have been on there, too, if I had blood to bleed…I would have been dead. But I wasn’t. And I realized that no matter what Flandre might do to me that next day, she couldn’t kill me either. Although…perhaps there were things worse than death. I just hoped the sister didn’t know them.

My quarters weren’t glamorous, but at least they weren’t cramped, even for sharing them with two other fairies. Had I taken a measuring stick to the walls, I might have realized that the room was bigger on the inside than on the outside; some odd side effect of Sakuya’s dabbling with time and space, I was told once. Neither of my roommates were there at the time—probably enjoying the night air like I would have been if none of this would have happened—and I didn’t feel like doing much else besides lying down. I don’t think fairies actually need sleep like you humans do, but it does help to calm oneself down, as I wanted to do that night.

I set the clock down next to my pillow on the middle bunk of our triple-bed, and set the knife down inside my clothes dresser, running a rag over it to remove the red stain. Flicking off the light switch, I disrobed from my uniform and flopped down on my bed, letting the soft sheets caress my tired skin. Clothes…I personally don’t like them. Bulky, cumbersome, itchy things they are, and many of my cousins and sisters agree. We would have been happy to do without them—all of us had back in the old ages—but you humans consider it vulgar to remain uncovered, I’ve heard, and Remilia is much the same way. Still, I was allowed some small relief down in my own quarters, where neither Remilia nor any humans would ever intrude.

Sleep…do you humans have trouble defining it as well? I can’t ever seem to wrap my head around it. Your mind seems to turn off, but it’s more like…like it merely closes its eyes, and sees something different instead. I’ve heard that when humans sleep, you have dreams, visions of wonderful worlds and odd sensations. I wonder what it would be like to dream, myself; I’ve never had one. No, fairies don’t dream; we remember. We remember our past, from the time before we became creatures with bodies of our own. When we flowed with the land and air and sea, and were as one with it. Sometimes I think it’s sad, remembering the things that no longer are and can’t ever be gotten back. But still…for those few hours in the night, when I didn’t have to worry about the present or the future, no mysterious Flandre or bloody assassin, I was content. I was happy.

+ + + + + + + + + +

Ringing! Bells and clangs in my ears, right next to my head! It hurt! Make it stop, please make it stop!

My hands flailed about, searching for the source of the pain, and managed to fumble upon the alarm clock, turning it off by sheer luck. The girls above and below me moaned and mumbled in their beds, but didn’t make any noise I could actually comprehend. I rubbed my aching ears and tried to look at the time, but a basement room without windows or active lights makes a poor view for much of anything. Remembering Sakuya’s words, I realized it must be seven o’ clock. One hour before my enigmatic first day with Flandre. Perhaps not enough time to do everything I would normally do in the mornings, but…

[ ] …at least enough time to bathe and make myself presentable for the little sister.
[ ] …perhaps enough time to make myself some breakfast from the kitchen.
[ ] …I could at least take a walk on the grounds and breathe the fresh morning air.
[ ] …then again, this morning wasn’t normal. I had no time to dilly-dally; best to get ready and be at Sakuya’s door early, just in case.
>> No. 28396
[ ] …at least enough time to bathe and make myself presentable for the little sister.
>> No. 28397
---Then again, this morning wasn't normal. I had no time to dilly-dally, best to get ready and be at Sakuya's door early, just in case.
>> No. 28398
[X] …at least enough time to bathe and make myself presentable for the little sister.

Bathing option.
>> No. 28400
[X] …at least enough time to bathe and make myself presentable for the little sister.

Bath option is always the best option.
>> No. 28401
[x] …then again, this morning wasn’t normal. I had no time to dilly-dally; best to get ready and be at Sakuya’s door early, just in case.

>Clothes…I personally don’t like them ... We would have been happy to do without them

Oh ho. Why not go streaking across the garden?
>> No. 28402
This looks like a fun little story. 1996 must mean SDM before it came to Gensokyo, if I remember my timeline correctly; that’s an interesting approach. Don’t see nearly enough first-person stories, either. I look forward to seeing what you do with this.

And just remember, if you screw up Flandre, I will find out where you live and slit your throat while you sleep. I do it because I care.

[+] …then again, this morning wasn’t normal. I had no time to dilly-dally; best to get ready and be at Sakuya’s door early, just in case.
>> No. 28403
>>28402

I thought you were going tripless.
>> No. 28404
>>28402

According to the wikia, the "Vampire Incident" prior to the Scarlet Mist Incident happened around 1998. I think EoSD happened in 2003.

Supposedly, the mansion was built by the perpetrator of the original vampire incident, and Remilia moved in after she arrived in Gensokyo (and apparently renamed it after herself, too.)

Nothing a quick retcon won't fix. Dates are insignificant, anyway.
>> No. 28405
>>28404

Oh, and also:
http://touhou.wikia.com/wiki/Gensokyo#Present_series

Reference material.

I know you said you didn't want to check the wikia for every little thing (which you shouldn't), but some quick research wouldn't hurt, either.
You might even consider taking a look at the "contemplations" page; it may give you some ideas.
http://touhou.wikia.com/wiki/Contemplations:_Scarlet_Devil_Mansion
>> No. 28407
>>28403
I said "Perhaps I should consider it." While it's nice to say what I want to say without my name getting in the way, I don't exactly like posting anonymously. I feel that if I screw up, I should be held accountable for my actions, and not just hide behind "Anonymous" as an excuse for not justifying my words. I take the internet seriously, or at least I try to.
>> No. 28409
>>28402[x] …then again, this morning wasn’t normal. I had no time to dilly-dally; best to get ready and be at Sakuya’s door early, just in case.
>> No. 28410
>>28407
Fuck, Owen! Get out of my fairy tale! You've screwed up that other CYOA enough already.

.
.
.

Sorry. but I had to rage.
>> No. 28411
[x] …at least enough time to bathe and make myself presentable for the little sister.
>> No. 28413
4 votes for taking a bath
4 votes for going to Sakuya early

Since it’s a tie right now, and I want to write soon, the next vote for either bath or going early will win it.

>>28402
Owen! Wow, you’re reading this? That’s pretty cool. Thanks! Guess I’m going to have to work harder now…

>>28404
>>28405
See, this is the reason I don’t want to follow canon 100%. It’s just too messy. There’s all these doujins and side-comics and papers and stuff written by ZUN, and they all say these weird things that make no sense to me. And on top of that, there’s just so many words like “possibly” or “perhaps” or “supposedly”. What am I supposed to do with all that?

All I want to do is write a story about the SDM without having to worry about the “canon” backstory only the hardcore people read anyways. So what if it goes against something ZUN said once? Will it really matter all that much? This is all fanfiction that’s just for fun anyways.

But still, thanks for the info. I’ll use what I can.

>>28410
Actually, aren’t these the kinds of posts that ruin CYOAs?
>> No. 28414
[x] …at least enough time to bathe and make myself presentable for the little sister.
>> No. 28415
>>28414

Bath it is. Writing now...
>> No. 28416
>>28415

hooray
>> No. 28430
Bathing, the finest tradition of maiding.
>> No. 28431
>>28430

Next to "bathing others" you mean.
>> No. 28433
…at least enough time to bathe and make myself presentable for the little sister. That silver polish left my hands feeling awful clammy, and the blood…I hadn’t gotten any on me, thank the stars above, but I just felt like a bath.

Still feeling a mite embarrassed for disturbing my kinswomen with my (no, Sakuya’s; I refused to call that noisemaker mine) alarm, I floated around the room in the dark as silently as possible, searching through my dresser until I found a fresh uniform. Bundling it up in front of me, I slipped out of our room and into the silent hallways.

The chill of the underground floors came as a shock to me, and I jumped back into the air, nearly dropping my clothes in the process. It was particularly cold that day, I recall. The original designers of the mansion might have made the basement as homey and hospitable as possible, but below ground was still below ground, and with the furnace unlit it wasn’t the most pleasant of atmospheres to make one’s dwelling in. I wasted little time in making my way over to the maids’ washroom.

The interior was already moist with warm steam; a pleasant change from the chilly hallways. I thought I could hear a shower running in the distance, too. I hadn’t expected any others to be awake so early (if I had my way, I would have been asleep for at least another two hours), but that perhaps is a defining feature of fairies: you can never quite expect them to do the expected. I suppose it’s similar for you humans, but fairies…again, it’s hard to explain all the specifics. In any case, I wasn’t there to criticize sleeping habits, I was there to cleanse myself.

I must say, for being a common bathroom with several hundred employee’s worth of traffic, the facilities have always been surprisingly adequate. Aside from the scores of shower stalls and personal baths lining the walls—which in themselves were often adequate—the centerpiece of the room was a marvelously white public bath easily the size of a swimming pool. Not wanting to wait for a tub of my own to fill, I set my uniform down on a table and slipped into the soothing waters.

Ahhnn…yes…that…much better. It was always just the right temperature, that bath. Never quite sure how that worked, but no matter what time or how many people were in the bath, it was always just right for everyone. For I can’t remember how many minutes I just spent my time floating above the surface, letting my hair fan out around me and reveling in the caressing kindness of the water. It reminded me of those days, ages ago, when I was the water, and flowed aimlessly with it. It wasn’t the same, of course, but it was as close as I could come to it in this physical body of mine.

Remembering that I was unfortunately pressed for time, I swam over to the lip of the pool and found a bar of soap—rose-scented, I think it was—and also a washcloth. Arms, legs, face, chest, feet, hands…yes, especially the hands had to be clean. What kind of vile chemicals were even in that detestable silver polish anyways? Why must you humans create the such artificial products for something as specific as silver polishing? I scrubbed long and hard with the cloth and soap, trying to exude the mystery polish from the subtle folds of my skin. The soap was, unfortunately, not of a purely-organic variety either, but at least it was a step in the right direction.

Satisfied with my skin, I turned to my hair, probably filled with the months-old dust of the fourth-floor ceiling. I personally don’t understand why you humans have to use different kinds of “shampoo” and “conditioner” and I don’t know what else for your hair. Soap is soap, yes? Gathering up a lather into my hands, I ran my fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp and letting the suds do whatever it is they do. What do they do, by the way? I never really understood it, Sakuya just told me my first week there that humans use soap to keep themselves clean, and Remilia wanted us to do the same. Sometimes I wonder if one day I take on so many human habits I’ll because human by osmosis! What an oddity that would be…

Feeling adequately clean, and still needing time to dress myself properly, I left the bath (so nice, so warm, didn’t want to…) and grabbed a towel from the hundreds available around the room. The rough fabric tickled my skin as it soaked up the water and rubbed against my more sensitive areas, perhaps more than it should have since I was rushing the process. That’s the trouble with not living by a clock, I suppose: interacting with other people who do.

Dressing myself took perhaps longer than usual, my hands growing more and more jittery with every moment closer to eight. I told myself I didn’t need to be afraid…I told myself this was going to help me be braver…so why were my hands shaking? Why was I breathing so fast? I dropped my comb twice while trying to straighten my hair, perhaps more; I forget those little details sometimes. I wanted to look nice for my first day, but, but I just couldn’t focus. Why do your limbs rebel against you even when your brain knows it’ll be all right?

Where is the line between body and mind?

+ + + + + + + + + +

I stood there, in front of Sakuya’s door, as immobile as I could manage. A maid or two who lived on the fourth floor (a special privilege, I think) passed me by and said hello, or asked me what I was waiting for, but I was too nervous to answer. 7:58, the wall clock next to me said. Two minutes…two minutes…

Butterflies were in my chest, fluttering in my throat. What was going to happen? What would I have to do? What kind of games would I have to play to keep her happy?

7:59…one minute…one minute…

Would it hurt? Would she blow me to pieces? Would I have to heal together my broken body from a million shards? Would she be a monster? Would she be every inch the sweet girl Remilia said she would be?

8:00…zero minutes…8:01…minus one minute.

And the door…didn’t open.

Wait, but…she said, she said eight o’ clock, right? She said she runs her schedule to the exact minute, didn’t she? Did I make a mistake? Did she say something I forgot?

[ ] I tried to calm my nerves… (No, no, calm down…it’s okay. She’s not perfect; she’s probably just a little late.)
[ ] Maybe...Maybe I was supposed to knock on her door at eight and let her know I was there? Yes, that’s probably it.
[ ] Wait, was it her room I was supposed to wait by, or Flandre’s? I couldn’t remember…but we’d be going down there anyways, right? Not wasting any time, I took the lift back down to the basement.
>> No. 28434
[ ] I tried to calm my nerves… (No, no, calm down…it’s okay. She’s not perfect; she’s probably just a little late.)
[ ] Maybe...Maybe I was supposed to knock on her door at eight and let her know I was there? Yes, that’s probably it.
>> No. 28436
[ ] I tried to calm my nerves… (No, no, calm down…it’s okay. She’s not perfect; she’s probably just a little late.)
[ ] Maybe...Maybe I was supposed to knock on her door at eight and let her know I was there? Yes, that’s probably it.
>> No. 28437
>>28433
[X] Maybe...Maybe I was supposed to knock on her door at eight and let her know I was there? Yes, that’s probably it.

Smells like a test.
>> No. 28438
[x] I tried to calm my nerves… (No, no, calm down…it’s okay. She’s not perfect; she’s probably just a little late.)
[x] Maybe...Maybe I was supposed to knock on her door at eight and let her know I was there? Yes, that’s probably it.

She's not perfect. She 'forgot' to lock the door the last time they had a prisoner, right?
>> No. 28439
[x] I tried to calm my nerves… (No, no, calm down…it’s okay. She’s not perfect; she’s probably just a little late.)
[x] Maybe...Maybe I was supposed to knock on her door at eight and let her know I was there? Yes, that’s probably it.
>> No. 28440
[X] Maybe...Maybe I was supposed to knock on her door at eight and let her know I was there? Yes, that’s probably it.
>> No. 28441
[ ] Wait, was it her room I was supposed to wait by, or Flandre’s? I couldn’t remember…but we’d be going down there anyways, right? Not wasting any time, I took the lift back down to the basement.
>> No. 28444
[x] Maybe...Maybe I was supposed to knock on her door at eight and let her know I was there? Yes, that’s probably it.

It's not like she said "do not disturb me" or anything. I don't see how anything bad could come of knocking.
>> No. 28445
[x] Call out for Sakuya
>> No. 28446
[x] Maybe...Maybe I was supposed to knock on her door at eight and let her know I was there? Yes, that’s probably it.
>> No. 28448
If you are to become Flandre's maid, then shouldn't you wait by Flandre's door?
>> No. 28449
>>28448

The head maid said to meet at her room.
>> No. 28452
4 for calming down and knocking on the door
4 for just knocking on the door
1 for going to the basement.

Those are the current votes. Won’t be writing tonight, though. I pushed myself harder than I should have with writing this week, and I need to cut back. You can keep voting if you want; updates probably not until tomorrow night.

I’m not leaving; don’t worry. I want to write. You voters have inspired me to keep going. Thanks~
>> No. 28453
[x] I tried to calm my nerves… (No, no, calm down…it’s okay. She’s not perfect; she’s probably just a little late.)
[x] Maybe...Maybe I was supposed to knock on her door at eight and let her know I was there? Yes, that’s probably it.
>> No. 28456
[z] I tried to calm my nerves… (No, no, calm down…it’s okay. She’s not perfect; she’s probably just a little late.)
[e] Maybe...Maybe I was supposed to knock on her door at eight and let her know I was there? Yes, that’s probably it.
>> No. 28457
[x] Maybe...Maybe I was supposed to knock on her door at eight and let her know I was there? Yes, that’s probably it.
>> No. 28459
[X] Maybe...Maybe I was supposed to knock on her door at eight and let her know I was there? Yes, that’s probably it.
>> No. 28468
[x] I tried to calm my nerves… (No, no, calm down…it’s okay. She’s not perfect; she’s probably just a little late.)
[x] Maybe...Maybe I was supposed to knock on her door at eight and let her know I was there? Yes, that’s probably it.
>> No. 28488
7 for calming down and knocking on the door
6 for just knocking on the door
1 for going to the basement.
1 for calling to Sakuya

All right, time to stop taking it easy! Writing now…
>> No. 28491
I tried to calm my nerves… (No, no, calm down…it’s okay. She’s not perfect; she’s probably just a little late. She’s a very busy person, after all, and I’m not that important. But maybe...Was I supposed to knock on her door at eight and let her know I was there? Yes, that was probably it.)

Nervously approaching the door, I raised my short arm as high as it would go and tapped on the wood of the door. Ten seconds passed. Nothing. I tapped again, knocking with more force. Those doors were thick and heavy, after all. Another ten seconds, and still nothing. I started to get a little worried. Was she even in her room? I thought about going in to check for a moment, but then stopped. That made no sense: if she was in her room, intruding would be frowned upon. And if she wasn’t, intruding would be pointless. But…eight o’ clock…she said eight. I was there, right there, ready for her. She was supposed to tell me what to do…I was anxious enough about Flandre already. Why wasn’t she there? Why…?

“I’m three minutes late; yes, I know. I’m sorry,” a hurried and worried voice said from behind me. Sakuya! I hadn’t heard her approach me, and yet there was no magical pinprick to tell me she had meddled with time. She must be quiet the light one on her feet, I gathered. Putting an ornate silver pocketwatch back into her apron, she motioned me to follow her into the lift. Before the doors had even begun to close, she pulled out some small electronic device; it looked like a black plastic pad of paper with a shiny screen. I hadn’t seen Sakuya’s PDA device before, at least not that close, and the further away I stayed from computers, the better. She poked the stylus at the screen and began to recite what sounded like a word-for-word statement for me, trying to add inflection into the speech, but for the most part failing.

“From this day forth, every Friday morning, you will unlock Miss Flandre’s door at exactly eight A. M. The key will be provided for you. You will remain in her presence at all times, within reason, until she falls asleep at night, and for a half-hour afterwards, at which point you will exit the room and lock it. The key will be relinquished from you. On certain occasions in the future your performance will be evaluated, and your duties increased or reduced accordingly.

“During your time with her, you are not her superior, you are her assistant. Her advisor. You may make suggestions of her, but not demands. If she requests something, fulfill the request as long as it is within your reason to do so. She prepares her own meals, but may request something from the kitchen from time to time. She is allowed to leave her room if she so desires, but must be escorted by you personally at all times, and you must inform either me or Remilia of her destination first. You may use the telephone; the numbers are clearly marked. She is not allowed outside under any circumstances. In the event that she becomes unstable, leave the room immediately and lock the door behind you; someone will come to assist you shortly.”

I felt like her voice itself dilated the time around us, though of course it’s a silly notion, but already we stood before the door to Flandre’s room in the basement, against a wall without any other doors but that one. I had never been in that door…never seen it opened. I had no idea what to expect. Sakuya pulled up a steel latch and swung the portal open, leading not into a bedroom, but a dark spiral stair, dimly lit, leading downwards into blackness. She paid little attention to either me or where she was going, squinting her eyes to read the screen in her palm as I dutifully followed her into oblivion.

“Do not patronize her,” she continued, more serious now. “Do not look down on her, do not baby her. She is older than you, smarter than you, and stronger than you. What she lacks is direction. Focus. Perspective. Treat her with respect. Treat her with honesty. If all else fails, use your best judgment. Do you understand these instructions?”

Did I understand? I hardly even knew that they were instructions. I had no idea how long Sakuya had lived with fairies in the mansion, but a wall of words like that is liable to confuse even normal humans I’ve heard; for fairies it’s not simply like you’re speaking a different language, you are speaking a different language. A language with all the same sounds and words, yes, but with different meanings. It’s too structured, too precise, too close together and ordered in rows and columns. We don’t think like that, not at all. How we do think even I don’t really know, but at least I know that it’s not like that.

At the time, all I knew how to say was, “Umm…n-no, not at all, Miss Sakuya.”

She sighed and looked at me endearingly. “No? Well, hmm…I guess I need to fix it again. Too many bullet points. Oh well, it doesn’t mean much anyways; I don’t even know why I bother.”

“But…what am I supposed to do?”

She turned her back to me as the stairs leveled out. At the bottom of the spiral was a surprisingly small door, certainly too small for a grown human to walk through without crouching down. Sakuya leaned over and twisted a key of some sort into a lock of some sort; it was too dark for me to tell at the time. The door once again swung outwards, into a room that looked pitch-black. The head maid handed me a large and heavy key, grayish-red in color, and with quite a number more teeth than seemed necessary for any kind of door.

“Don’t lose that,” she told me sternly.

I nodded, but still didn’t understand what was going on. “Th-thank you, Miss Sakuya but…I still don’t understand. What am I supposed to do?

She smiled and patted my head, taking care not to unbalance my maid’s bonnet. “Just…be yourself. You’ll be fine.”

Ever so slowly, and having to look back at Sakuya at least twice, I inched into Flandre’s room. It was dark; as dark as my room was that morning, except with just one small light on towards the back of the room. It looked like a bedside light to me. I thought I could make out the golden hair and childish face of the young sister, sitting in her bedsheets, but I couldn’t see much else from that distance.

[ ] I…I…no, I couldn’t…I couldn’t do it. Even now, when I was so close, it was…I just…too much, it was too much.
[ ] Following my established trend, I continued my slow approach, easing my way into this unknown madness.
[ ] This…wasn’t so bad. Feeling a little more confident, I walked over to the sister’s bed and waited for her to acknowledge me.
[ ] Mustering up my courage as best I could, I spoke to the girl, trying to make this first impression a good one. (write-in something to say if you want)
>> No. 28492
[ ] This…wasn’t so bad. Feeling a little more confident, I walked over to the sister’s bed and waited for her to acknowledge me.
>> No. 28495
>“Just…be yourself. You’ll be fine."

:awesome:

[x] Mustering up my courage as best I could, I spoke to the girl, trying to make this first impression a good one.
[x] "So, what are you in for? I stabbed somebody."
[x] Chuckle nervously at your joke.

Levity.
>> No. 28496
Ugh... want to make a write in, but... too tired...
>> No. 28497
[ ] This…wasn’t so bad. Feeling a little more confident, I walked over to the sister’s bed and waited for her to acknowledge me.
>> No. 28498
[ ] Mustering up my courage as best I could, I spoke to the girl, trying to make this first impression a good one.
[X] "Um, good morning Miss Flandre. I am your new maid and will be serving you from now on. I hope to be of use to you."
>> No. 28502
>>28495
I so want to vote for this... but...
>Oh, and just to let you know, no BAD ENDs in this story; fairies don’t die, and respawning won’t cost any penalty besides a little unconsciousness. Feel free to take some risks if you want, I won’t hold them against you.
...Oh, fuck it.

[~] Mustering up my courage as best I could, I spoke to the girl, trying to make this first impression a good one.
[z] "So, what are you in for? I stabbed somebody."
[e] Chuckle nervously at your joke.
>> No. 28504
[x] This…wasn’t so bad. Feeling a little more confident, I walked over to the sister’s bed and waited for her to acknowledge me.
>> No. 28505
[x] Mustering up my courage as best I could, I spoke to the girl, trying to make this first impression a good one.
[x] "So, what are you in for? I stabbed somebody."
[x] Chuckle nervously at your joke.

as long as the tone of voice conveys correctly the joke... i've had more than 1 misundestanding...
>> No. 28506
[x] Mustering up my courage as best I could, I spoke to the girl, trying to make this first impression a good one.
[x]Me? My lawyer fucked me. Everybody's innocent in here. Didn't you know that?
[x] Chuckle nervously at your joke.
[x] Tunnel through the wall.
[x] Escape from the prison.
>> No. 28507
[x] Following my established trend, I continued my slow approach, easing my way into this unknown madness.
>> No. 28508
[ ] This…wasn’t so bad. Feeling a little more confident, I walked over to the sister’s bed and waited for her to acknowledge me.
>> No. 28509
[x] This…wasn’t so bad. Feeling a little more confident, I walked over to the sister’s bed and waited for her to acknowledge me.
>> No. 28511
5 votes for confidently walking forward.
3 votes for making a light joke (What are you in for?)
1 vote for making a polite introduction.
1 vote for slowly inching forwards.
1 vote for…whatever >>28506 is.

The silent and confident approach wins it. Writing now…ish?
>> No. 28513
>>28511
>1 vote for…whatever >>28506 is.

Think it was an obtuse reference to The Shawshank Redemption.

Also, hooray... ish.
>> No. 28514
This…wasn’t so bad. Feeling a little more confident, I walked over to the sister’s bed and waited for her to acknowledge me. A bit hard in the darkness, I won’t lie, and several times I had to take to the air to avoid stumbling on some discarded piece of clothing or who knows what else, but eventually I made it over to my new mistress’s side.

Reading. That was the first thing I noticed as I saw her up close. She was reading. Not a child’s book with pictures, either; no, a thick chapter book with small text. I won’t say that I thought it impossible—I didn’t really know what to expect with Flandre—but it was definitely something I hadn’t envisioned Flandre doing. A pillow was bunched up by the headboard of her large four-poster bed (at least it looked like a four-poster in that light; it was hard to tell), and she leaned her head calmly against it.

Her face was…weary, I think would be a good word to describe it. She of course didn’t look a day over ten by human standards (mostly likely well under it), and her face was practically perfect in every way, no blemishes or freckles that I could see. But still, she looked tired and spent, in more ways than one. The bags under her eyes were hidden by a small pair of reading glasses, but they were definitely there.

I stood there, as close to her bed as I dared without intruding on her space, and waited. Waited for what? I really didn’t know myself. Perhaps a command from the girl, or any words at all. Perhaps I just waited for her to snap her fingers and turn me into ash, as I heard she was wont to do. All I could do was wait…

She spoke, still focusing on her book. “Just finishing up this chapter; I’ll be a minute or two more. I think. These chapters tend to drag on every now and then; could take more. I could be wrong, too. Could be lying. Could not even know what I’m saying right now. Could just be talking on and on without thinking, never stopping even when I should. Eventually you’ll just write me off as insane and start ignoring me because of it. Most of the other ones do. I think. They never tell me if they do or not. I think they’re afraid to offend me or something. Think I’ll destroy them over one little disagreement. Will I? Of course not. At least I shouldn’t. I suppose I could if I wanted to. I have the ability, don’t I? I could get a good look at you right now and focus on your body, all your weak points…blow it to bits, right now. But that’d be a bad idea. You wouldn’t like me if I did that, and then you won’t look after me very well, and Remi’ll have to just find someone else for Fridays. Oh look, I’m done with the chapter now.”

Slipping a cloth bookmark into her novel, she set the text aside and sighed, looking away from me into the darkness. What…what had she just said to me then? I felt like I could understand it if I really tried, but…was there even any substance to it? Did any of it mean anything?

“You can’t understand me, can you?” she asked plainly.

“U-Uhhhmmm, I, uhh…N-no, M-Miss Flandre.”

“No, no then, see, that’s not true. You can understand me. Because you understood my question. And that means we can talk to each other if we really try. I want to try. It’s hard to try, but at least I can try to try. Do you want to try, too?”

Did I? Did I what? I knew I wanted to be braver, at least, but what exactly was I “trying” to do with this question? I could barely understand Flandre’s words better than the wall of instructions Sakuya had given me just five minutes before, which didn’t comfort me much. She didn’t seem like any kind of insane monster or psychotic child to me, thank the stars, but if I had to deal with this for the rest of the day…? I’d go more insane than her before the month was out! No wonder there were so many rumors about her: because even when you talk to her, you still can’t understand what the truth is supposed to be.

[ ] Was I supposed to answer, or not? Flandre seemed like the kind of person to ask a lot of rhetorical questions. I thought it best to remain silent for now.
[ ] Well, understanding or no, the whole reason I was there was to “try”. Did it really matter what kind of trying?
[ ] At that time, I recalled a line from a film I had once seen; the name eluded me at the time. “No. Try not. Do, or do not. There is no try.” I wanted to do more than just “try”.
[ ] Taking a leap of faith, I answered her question with one of my own. (pick one, or do a writein)
---( ) “Umm…d-do you mind telling me exactly what I’m trying? I’m real confused.”
---( ) “I’m, I’m here to look after you today. Is there anything you’d like me to do?”
---( ) “Try? Well, isn’t trying to only thing anyone can ever do anyways?”
>> No. 28515
[x] At that time, I recalled a line from a film I had once seen; the name eluded me at the time. “No. Try not. Do, or do not. There is no try.” I wanted to do more than just “try”.
>> No. 28516
>>28515

Ugh...
It really makes absolutely no sense for a fairy to have seen Star Wars, but the quote fits pretty well...

I can't decide whether to vote for this.
>> No. 28517
[x] At that time, I recalled a line from a film I had once seen; the name eluded me at the time. “No. Try not. Do, or do not. There is no try.” I wanted to do more than just “try”.
>> No. 28518
>>28516

I'd probably vote for it if someone rephrased it slightly.
>> No. 28519
Well, from her words, she's definitely trying to spook us. Good thing we have no idea what it is she's talking about!

[x] Pretend you understand what it is that is being said, nodding and rubbing your chin sagely as if in consideration--you've definitely seen humans do that when they're trying to look smart.
[x] Smile confidently as you respond. If you don't get an affirming response from her, simply change your words until you do.
[x] "All signs point to yes."
[x] "I mean, no."
[x] "But I can try."
[x] "Maybe."

Magic Nine Ball.
>> No. 28520
>>28514
[X] At that time, I recalled a line from a film I had once seen; the name eluded me at the time. “No. Try not. Do, or do not. There is no try.” I wanted to do more than just “try”.

>I think they’re afraid to offend me or something. Think I’ll destroy them over one little disagreement. Will I? Of course not. At least I shouldn’t. I suppose I could if I wanted to.

Well, let's start out with a minor disagreement then: she wants to 'try' and we want to 'do.' Let's see what happens.

At first glance, I thought this was a bad write-in, but to see it as an 'official' choice, my curiosity is piqued. I'd be skeptical otherwise, but in this case it's looking more like >>28380 is a plausible theory. It's '96, so it's not too crazy for part of mansion life to involve movie night. If not that, it'd be fun if our fairy was a closet film nut. The write-in potential would be glorious, especially when she mangles it.
>> No. 28524
[B] At that time, I recalled a line from a film I had once seen; the name eluded me at the time. “No. Try not. Do, or do not. There is no try.” I wanted to do more than just “try”.

I like this Flandre.
>> No. 28525
>>28519
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
>> No. 28526
[x] Taking a leap of faith, I answered her question with one of my own. (pick one, or do a writein)
---(x) “I’m, I’m here to look after you today. Is there anything you’d like me to do?”
>> No. 28527
[ ] At that time, I recalled a line from a film I had once seen; the name eluded me at the time. “No. Try not. Do, or do not. There is no try.” I wanted to do more than just “try”.
>> No. 28539
>I suppose I could if I wanted to. I have the ability, don’t I? I could get a good look at you right now and focus on your body, all your weak points…blow it to bits, right now. But that’d be a bad idea. You wouldn’t like me if I did that, and then you won’t look after me very well, and Remi’ll have to just find someone else for Fridays.

Canst thou fill his skin with barbed irons?
Or his head with fish spears?

[x] Okay, you can work with this. Maybe even stare her down. If she's a vampire, that means she was human once, and humans take orders from those who assert their authority.
[x] "I think you misunderestimate your sister, Flandre Scarlet. She has selected a maid-in-waiting wholly immune to your powers--for, you see, all of my points are weak. That is an infinite number of points! Take one away from infinity, and what is left? Infinity!"
[x] "You may have broken the shackles of mortality, but you are still bound by a human and wholly fallible intellect, one unable to grasp the essential and unchanging nature of the universe. That is why you are the little girl locked in her sister's basement, and why I am the fairy who possesses the key."
[x] Intimidate her with your laugh like the TV-show villain you are.
>> No. 28543
Wait, why are fairies afraid of Flandre, anyway?
The only reasons one might fear her would be death and pain. "Death" has no meaning to a fairy, and-- regardless of what rumors you go by-- Flandre isn't exactly known for dragging out her killings.
>> No. 28544
[X] At that time, I recalled a line from a film I had once seen; the name eluded me at the time. “No. Try not. Do, or do not. There is no try.” I wanted to do more than just “try”.
>> No. 28546
>>28543
My take is it's Flandre's personality, and more likely her insanity, that upsets the fairies. The crazy, disjointed, and overly complex way of thinking and speaking probably doesn't mesh well with simple perceptions and thought processes of the normal fairy.
>> No. 28552
6 for “There is no try.”
1 for “Magic Nine Ball”
1 for asking Flandre what to do
1 for dramatic monologue

Not-so-overt Star Wars reference it is, then. I’m going to reword it a bit so I can better address that question you keep asking (what’s up with the movie knowledge?). Writing now…

>>28524
Thanks; so do I~

>>28539
Lay thine hand upon her, remember the battle, do no more!
Behold, the hope of her is in vain: shall not one be cast down even at the sight of her?

EDIT: Family matters (a.k.a. Mother’s Day) got sprung on me at the last minute. Update delayed until sometime tomorrow. Sage for being an unreliable writefag.
>> No. 28553
>>28552

hooray!
>> No. 28561
>>I’m going to reword it a bit so I can better address that question you keep asking (what’s up with the movie knowledge?).

Greatly appreciated.
>> No. 28579
At that time, I recalled a line from a film I had once seen a few years back; the name eluded me at the time. A line about trying. I wanted to do more than just “try”. To say such an audacious thing to Flandre herself, though…it was a short step away from simply spitting in her face. I just hoped she wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

“N-No, miss. Try not. Do, or do not. There is no try.”

She tilted her head at me and readjusted the glasses on her face. I thought maybe she was trying to look more like a scholar with them on, which seemed pretty ironic to me.

“Empire Strikes Back was a nice movie, I guess,” she commented. Was that the name of the film I heard the line from? It sounded familiar. “Suffered from being the middle one of a trilogy. They’re all like that. I liked The Two Towers, though, it had lots of fun stuff in it. I heard they might be making Episodes One, Two, and Three, you know? Kind of funny, making the first movies last and the last movies first. All backwards. Does he think it’ll be better because of that? You don’t just win points by doing something different; I think you win points by winning points. What game are we playing, anyways? I like games. Except I have to be careful when I lose, ‘cause if I don’t I get angry and break things. You don’t want me to break things, do you? I don’t want me to break things, makes the room all messy. Sakuya’s a nice lady, she cleans up after me. She tells you want to do? She told you how to treat me? Yeah, just forget all that; she doesn’t know me, I don’t even know me? What do you know? Do you know about movies? You’d have to know about movies to know about movie lines, right?”

This girl…this girl! Doesn’t she ever stop talking?! Doesn’t she give you a chance to answer more than one question out of ten? My old, uninformed fear was quickly being replaced by a frustrated confusion at not being hardly able to understand what it was this girl wanted, if she wanted anything. The only thing I could do was take a guess at the last words out of her mouth before she had finally shut up, and try to answer them.

“W-well, Miss, umm…I watch some films every now and then in the theatre in the evenings. I think they’re quite fun, to see other worlds of make believe. It’s like your imagination’s all laid out on a screen for you. Or, well...Umm, well, I guess someone else’s imagination, but I still like them. I can’t always remember all of them, though…I have a hard time remembering things. I hope you’ll forgive me for that.”

Flandre’s face fell just a little bit; I only noticed it because her mouth was a flat line before, and it sloped slightly downwards after the fact. She nibbled on her finger as she answered me…and least it sounded like an answer.

“Ohh…imagination. My imagination’s broken, I think. Or, maybe I don’t think, because isn’t that what happens when your imagination’s broke? I wish I could see my imagination like a movie; movies can be so exiting! But no, all I get to see is me, boring me, talking to myself, sitting here in my room. That wouldn’t make a good movie at all. Who would watch it? I wouldn’t want to watch it. Why do I live a life I wouldn’t even want to watch on the television? A life I think is boring and I don’t like and want to change but should because if I do then people get hurt and if people get hurt I get hurt on the inside and I don’t want to hurt on the inside because I always hurt on the inside even when I forget that I hurt on the inside? How stupid is that? A fairy who watches movies?! That wouldn’t make a good movie at all!”

My humble words here are simply not enough to express how utterly befuddled I was at that time, in that pitch-black room where I couldn’t even see the walls. The only thing I knew was what I could see and hear right in front of me, which amounted to so pitifully little. I was so confused…so alone, so helpless. I felt like I was getting blown to bits already, just by the sheer density of Flandre’s responses. How could such a small fairy like me hope to match wits with a timeless vampire such as her, even a broken one?

The fear started to return to me, but for different reasons than before. Before, I feared the unknown, the mysteries of Flandre’s being. Now, I feared what I did know, and what I knew was that I knew nothing. Yes, to you I must sound terribly redundant right now, but please try to understand the difference between knowing nothing, and knowing that you know nothing. I wish I could just write this off as another difference between fairies and humans—it’d certainly be easier for me—but it’s not. Humans feel this way too, no? You know what to say, but muddle it up when you say it?

But again, I’m getting away from the story.

Seeing as how my method of responding to the last sentence she spoke seemed to work, I tried it once again. “Well, I, I realize that it’s quite silly, Miss Flandre, a creature of Nature like me using mechanical things, video screens and all that. But, well, Mistress Remilia…uhh, your sister, I mean, she likes us fairies to be ‘with the changing times’, or something like that. Movies, electric lights, vacuum cleaners…I even heard a horrible rumor from one of the human maids that Remilia might force us to learn how to shoot guns! Doesn’t that sound, umm…weird, to you, Miss?”

Flandre stared off into the darkness again; I wondered if there was something interesting there she could see that I couldn’t? I must admit, having her talk to me without eye contact was rather odd. Not that I really minded much; I don’t think I could stand having to look at Flandre’s eyes for very long. Red, red eyes, stained with the mark of the vampire…not so terrible to look at every now and again, but most chilling after too much eye contact.

“Pistols for pixies? Shotguns for sprites? I’m pretty sure I’m pretty insane and even I think that’s a crazy idea. Then again, if a crazy person thinks something is crazy, does that mean it’s normal? Probably doesn’t work that way, not all the time, at least. Two negatives just make a super-negative in real life. Too bad real life isn’t like math. I wonder what kind of equation I would be…? Mmm, hey, you eat food, right? I mean, you can eat food, right? It’s probably food time soon; do you want a food? I can make you some if you want; I’ma pretty good food-make person. Most of the time, anyways.”

…Breakfast? Made by…Flandre? I don’t think I need to tell you how skeptical I was on the matter. At the time, I don’t know which factor made me more nervous: her insanity or her vampirism.

[ ] Would she make me…drink blood? Or…something worse? I didn’t think I wanted to take that risk. After all, all she did was ask; I was allowed to refuse, right?
[ ] Still…it’d probably be rude to turn her down like that. Who knew what she might do to a flat-out refusal, after all!
[ ] But the offer intrigued me. She had proven herself odd, yes, but not incompetent. And I was rather hungry. Perhaps it’d be a good chance to see a different side of the girl.
>> No. 28581
[x] But the offer intrigued me. She had proven herself odd, yes, but not incompetent. And I was rather hungry. Perhaps it’d be a good chance to see a different side of the girl.
>> No. 28582
[x] But the offer intrigued me. She had proven herself odd, yes, but not incompetent. And I was rather hungry. Perhaps it’d be a good chance to see a different side of the girl.

BEFRIEND
>> No. 28583
[x] But the offer intrigued me. She had proven herself odd, yes, but not incompetent. And I was rather hungry. Perhaps it’d be a good chance to see a different side of the girl.
[x] And if she's simply no good at cooking for others (or at least those with fairy palates), then I've found something with which I could help her!
>> No. 28585
File 124210045918.jpg - (244.73KB , 1200x850 , fairy gun.jpg ) [iqdb]
28585
>“Well, I, I realize that it’s quite silly, Miss Flandre, a creature of Nature like me using mechanical things, video screens and all that. But, well, Mistress Remilia…uhh, your sister, I mean, she likes us fairies to be ‘with the changing times’, or something like that. Movies, electric lights, vacuum cleaners…I even heard a horrible rumor from one of the human maids that Remilia might force us to learn how to shoot guns! Doesn’t that sound, umm…weird, to you, Miss?”

>Flandre stared off into the darkness again; I wondered if there was something interesting there she could see that I couldn’t? I must admit, having her talk to me without eye contact was rather odd. Not that I really minded much; I don’t think I could stand having to look at Flandre’s eyes for very long. Red, red eyes, stained with the mark of the vampire…not so terrible to look at every now and again, but most chilling after too much eye contact.

>“Pistols for pixies? Shotguns for sprites? I’m pretty sure I’m pretty insane and even I think that’s a crazy idea. Then again, if a crazy person thinks something is crazy, does that mean it’s normal?

Fairy and Flandre's Creative Workshop

Fairy: "Wouldn't it be horrible if..."
Flandre: "Brilliant!"

"Don't be caught with last season's Glock in this season's smock!"

I see profit margins.
>> No. 28588
[x] Would she make me…drink blood? Or…something worse? I didn’t think I wanted to take that risk. After all, all she did was ask; I was allowed to refuse, right?

Fairy not eating a meal made by someone who thinks Alien was better than Aliens.
>> No. 28589
[z] But the offer intrigued me. She had proven herself odd, yes, but not incompetent. And I was rather hungry. Perhaps it’d be a good chance to see a different side of the girl.
[e] And if she's simply no good at cooking for others (or at least those with fairy palates), then I've found something with which I could help her!
>> No. 28591
[x] But the offer intrigued me. She had proven herself odd, yes, but not incompetent. And I was rather hungry. Perhaps it’d be a good chance to see a different side of the girl.
[x] And if she's simply no good at cooking for others (or at least those with fairy palates), then I've found something with which I could help her!
>> No. 28592
>Fairy not eating a meal made by someone who thinks Alien was better than Aliens.

iconic suspense-thriller sci-fi vs iconic action sci-fi

faggot
>> No. 28595
>>28524
>>28552

You know, the more I read/think about it, the more I like her, too. I'd even go as far as to say that she's the most interesting portrayal of Flandre I've seen yet.

Even the way she talks; her speech patterns are similar to what's in canon material, but her words aren't all just senseless babble. She has some insight.

She's still got plenty of "moe Flan-chan" in her, but she's no useless moeblob, either. And the fact that she speaks so damn fast-- let alone in such volume-- tells me that she's either a savant or she's just eager to share thoughts that she's been forced to keep to herself all these years due to her isolation.

But, whether she be an imprisoned genius or a lonely immortal, it all just makes me want to befriend her even more.
>> No. 28596
File 124215499791.png - (625.21KB , 1110x1547 , 4250724.png ) [iqdb]
28596
>>28579
[X] But the offer intrigued me. She had proven herself odd, yes, but not incompetent. And I was rather hungry. Perhaps it’d be a good chance to see a different side of the girl.
[X] And if she's simply no good at cooking for others (or at least those with fairy palates), then I've found something with which I could help her!

Good write-in.

>>28595
Agreed on all accounts. Nice mix of [i]moe[/] and madness that's probably the most canon representation yet (although I am looking forward to when Norseman gets around to her). What little we've seen of non-bitch Sakuya has been refreshing as well. Very much looking forward to Patchu and Meiling.
>> No. 28598
>>28596

Come to think of it, the representation of Sakuya is actually closer to canon as well. She has a careless side, as we've all seen:

>>28491
>>“I’m three minutes late; yes, I know. I’m sorry,” a hurried and worried voice said from behind me. Sakuya!

>>28371
>>"Hardly. I wish I’d see more of my staff try harder like you just did.” She nudged Sakuya in the side, who squirmed a little but made no reply. An inside joke, perhaps? The maid pointed to the still-present assassin on the ground.

But what really did me in was this:

>>28371
>>“What should I do with this one, then, since I’m apparently not doing enough for you?” she asked plainly.
>>“It was a joke, silly girl, honestly now. Lighten up more!” She sighed and tapped her foot on the bound interloper, noticing her bleeding ankle. Dipping a finger into the blood, she stuck out her tongue and took a small lick. “Mediocre at best, but we’ll keep her anyways. Put her into an empty room for now. Lock the door this time; you forgot with our last one.”
>>“Can you please not bring that up again? I said I was sorry.”

A Sakuya with sass?
Holy shit, sir.

I look forward to seeing where this goes.
>> No. 28600
4 for accepting and being intrigued, plus writein.
2 for accepting and being intrigued.
1 for refusing.

Long day today; I’m tired and spent. Don’t feel like writing tonight. Sorry. Maybe tomorrow…

>>28585
And I see awesome picture margins. Make it a reality, Anon!

>>28588
angryweeabooeyes.jpg

>>28595
Aww, now you’re making me blush. Thank you~

>>28596
Wow, really?! I didn’t think anyone would say that kind of nice thing about my Flandre, not about a two-week old story, at least. Most canon yet, even? Well, thank you, very much! Guess I’m gong to have to think up a good Patchy and China, now...so much pressure.

>>28598
Keep this up and I won’t be able to write anymore; I’ll be too afraid of disappointing you! Many thanks for the compliment, and I’ll try to make this “go” someplace good~
>> No. 28601
>>28600

Don't sweat it.
Honestly, if you can just get in the habit of updating regularly, people will read.
>> No. 28603
>A fairy who watches movies?! That wouldn’t make a good movie at all!

A movie about fairies getting together to watch old classics and B-movies. FUND IT
>> No. 28605
>>28603

Mystery Fairy Theater 3000
>> No. 28606
>>28605

Starring the Fairy Trio?
>> No. 28615
Back and feeling better.

Intrigued acceptance plus writein wins the vote. Writing now*...


*(Sage for writing now)
>> No. 28616
>>28615

hooray!
>> No. 28617
>>Sage for writing now

Wait, what?
>> No. 28621
But the offer intrigued me. She had proven herself odd, yes, but not incompetent. And I was rather hungry. Perhaps it’d be a good chance to see a different side of the girl. And if she was simply no good at cooking for others (or at least those with fairy palates), then I’d found something with which I could help her! That was my job, after all: to advise and assist.

“I would like some food, yes, Miss Flandre,” I answered politely. I might have just left it at that, but my servant side got the better of me just then, and I continued. “Oh, but, umm…really, shouldn’t I be the one making you breakfast? I’m your maid for the day after all. I wouldn’t want you doing something I could do.”

She shrugged and reached a hand out to the wall, flicking on a light switch I’d just then noticed. After my eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, I took a good look around the room. Again, I found myself rather intrigued with the lady’s quarters. For the most part, they were quite tidy, not like a child’s room at all. Very cozy as well; the organization of the furniture masked the fact that the room was really not that grand in size, though still bigger than average to my eyes (though, I must admit, my only perspective of “average” was the varying sizes of guest rooms inside the mansion). Rich wood walls and a luxurious tapestry of a carpet made me feel like I was stepping several centuries back into the past, though a second look make me realize those centuries had been harder on the décor than would be fitting of a similar room two floors up.

Flandre slipped out of her bed and stretched down to the ground, meeting her small fingers with her toes. Only as tall as I was…it felt wrong, like my superiors should always be taller than me by far. Height might not mean much in the grand scheme of things, but in nature height often signifies age and maturity, and old habits are of course hard to break, especially for a fairy. I was trying, though, and Remilia and Sakuya both always made us try harder. “You’re no longer dust in the wind, little ladies,” they told us. “You have your own lives now, and your own personalities. It’s a new world for you. Time to start living in it.”

What, where was I…? Oh, Flandre, yes.

Seeing the vampire sisters so close and in their eveningwear not twelve hours apart from each other, I couldn’t help but make comparisons between them. Remilia was taller and older-looking by a few years, and felt more “full” then Flandre did. The younger sister seemed lankier, more thin, but like a strong willow, very taught and supple. And compared to that blood-red dress fit for a queen that the elder wore, Flandre’s frayed pajama pants and mismatched sleeveless top felt like a joke. Her wings, though…yes, her wings. You’re familiar with them, no? You can see them in your mind right now, I might gather. Not natural at all; they both looked and felt artificial. Crumpled, curved poles of some hard iron, rusted in parts, and welded together asymmetrically; poorly, I might add, though I’m no blacksmith in the least. Glittering rainbow crystals hanging from bent rings hammered into the iron, completely at odds with each other, the beauty and the ugliness. As she bent down like that, I could see the matted flesh near her spine where the metal met the skin, her vampiric powers of healing trying in vain to eject the things from her body. I shuddered as I imagined what it must feel like, to have your wings work against you rather than with you. My own wings, you see, were a simple part of my body, like a hand. Thin and like gossamer, yes, but they were mine. Flandre’s though…It just made me wonder, is all.

She stood back up and shrugged, talking quietly as she walked through an adjacent door into a small little kitchenette. A pittance compared to the big mansion kitchen, but for use by just one person it was quite nice, and a welcome thing to have down there in my opinion.

“Did Sakuya say she had to help?” Flandre asked as she started gathering a skillet and some measuring cups, talking more about me than to me. “Sakuya says a lot of things. Forgets a lot of things too. I like to cook, though. It makes me feel less like I’m useless. Don’t like to feel useless. Feels so…useless. Like you’re a leech, living off other people for life. And not just that, leeches hurt people too. I don’t want to hurt people…don’t want to hurt. Hurt too many people already. Time to start helping instead. I guess you can help too, then, if you want. I think omelets today would be good. Do you allow yourself to eat meat? I know some of you don’t. Connection to nature-life or something.”

“Oh, umm, no, no meat please. But you can have some on yours if you want! I don’t mind.”

Flandre began cracking eggs into the skillet as I rummaged around for some cheese and other vegetables. Whatever couldn’t be found in the refrigerator (which, amazingly enough, was well-stocked with normal everyday things and contained no blood) I found in her small pantry room (which, amazingly again, was well-stocked with normal everyday things and contained no blood). As we worked together, I couldn’t help but feed a little freaked out. I didn’t know the girl. I had barely heard her say a thing, and what I had heard I didn’t like. Why was I having a pleasant time cooking omelets with her, then? Why wasn’t I cowering in a corner or going out of my way to do things with her? I was no different than any other fairy, wasn’t I? I wasn’t anyone special; dozens others were smarter or braver than me, and they hardly spoke of their time down here. Was the worst just yet to come, then? Was I letting my guard down for the inevitable moment where all hope would fade and the centuries-old vampire would beset upon me like the mad monster she was?

[ ] I was getting too close. This was far too fast. I didn’t know enough. For a little fairy like me, I just didn’t want to get ahead of myself too much. I could still be brave, but…perhaps a little less brave? Baby steps, you know.
[ ] I finished the breakfast preparations as I had been doing before: calmly and quietly. I watched and waited, seeing how things would turn out, and easing myself into this job. Maybe…maybe I could get used to this.
[ ] While waiting for the eggs to finish cooking, I decided to try and ask a question of my own. (pick from below, or writein)
---( ) “So, umm…nice room. Do you like it down here?”
---( ) “You’re not, umm…going to put blood in those omelets, are you?”
---( ) “Can I ask what you might want to do today?”
---( ) “Forgive me for prying, but you don’t seem as bad as I’ve heard. Why does everyone say bad things about you?”
>> No. 28622
[x] While waiting for the eggs to finish cooking, I decided to try and ask a question of my own.
-[x] "You said earlier to me that you wanted to try talking with me. If we're going to do that is there anything you'd like to know about me? Likes, dislike and such?"
>> No. 28623
[x] While waiting for the eggs to finish cooking, I decided to try and ask a question of my own.
-[x] "You said earlier to me that you wanted to try talking with me. If we're going to do that is there anything you'd like to know about me? Likes, dislike and such?"

Finally, someone updates, I've been going through withdrawal here, haha.
>> No. 28624
[x] While waiting for the eggs to finish cooking, I decided to try and ask a question of my own.
-[x] "You said earlier to me that you wanted to try talking with me. If we're going to do that is there anything you'd like to know about me? Likes, dislike and such?"
>> No. 28625
[x] While waiting for the eggs to finish cooking, I decided to try and ask a question of my own.
-[x] "You said earlier to me that you wanted to try talking with me. If we're going to do that is there anything you'd like to know about me? Likes, dislike and such?"
>> No. 28626
[x] While waiting for the eggs to finish cooking, I decided to try and ask a question of my own.
-[x] "You said earlier to me that you wanted to try talking with me. If we're going to do that is there anything you'd like to know about me? Likes, dislike and such?"
>> No. 28630
[x] While waiting for the eggs to finish cooking, I decided to try and ask a question of my own.
-[x] "You said earlier to me that you wanted to try talking with me. If we're going to do that is there anything you'd like to know about me? Likes, dislike and such?"
>> No. 28632
[ ] While waiting for the eggs to finish cooking, I decided to try and ask a question of my own.
---(x) “Forgive me for prying, but you don’t seem as bad as I’ve heard. Why does everyone say bad things about you?”
>> No. 28633
[x] While waiting for the eggs to finish cooking, I decided to try and ask a question of my own.
-[x] "You said earlier to me that you wanted to try talking with me. If we're going to do that is there anything you'd like to know about me? Likes, dislike and such?"
>> No. 28635
[ ] While waiting for the eggs to finish cooking, I decided to try and ask a question of my own.
---( ) “Can I ask what you might want to do today?”
---( ) “Forgive me for prying, but you don’t seem as bad as I’ve heard. Why does everyone say bad things about you?”
>> No. 28655
Updates?
>> No. 28657
>>28655
Bad day yesterday. I’ll try and do two updates today to make up for it.

Don’t even need to count. The likes/dislikes write-in wins. Writing now…
>> No. 28658
While waiting for the eggs to finish cooking, I decided to try and ask a question of my own. "Well, umm…You said earlier to me that you wanted to try talking with me, right? If we're going to do that, I guess is there anything you'd like to know about me? Likes, dislikes?”

“Oh, those? No, probably not,” she told me, rather curtly, her eyes focused on the cooking omelets. “I can learn that later. Most-a you, you fairy types, you’re pretty much the same, did you know that? I bet you like being outside way more than inside. I bet you wish your room would have a window in it, or better yet you didn’t have a room and could just sleep out on the lawn, or in the orchard, right? I bet you don’t like the smell of Windex or Bleach, but you’re okay with the smell of garbage and ashes, right? I bet you like running and jumping games, but thinking games not so much. I bet you like to ask yourself questions because you’re curious and confused, right? I bet you wonder why my sister makes you work all day if she never has any guests. I wonder that too, actually. How many of you are here, anyways? Three hundred some? No, three hundred four, actually. Or, wait no…that’s just how many can fit in the rooms. Never mind, I’m wrong again. I’m wrong a lot, really. You probably shouldn’t listen to me too much; it’ll make you all confused. What’s your favorite season?”

I thought that maybe I was getting just a smidgen better at understanding her words. While I still couldn’t keep up with her, I had a pretty good guess that the things she said “I bet” I liked were true. Though I didn’t feel it at the time, later on those words of hers would make me feel much worse than simple words should. She had just told me all about myself, and she didn’t even know me. Were fairies really that much alike? Were we so predictable that even Flandre felt we were all the same? And if we were…then who was I? Was I “me”, or was I just one of “them”? Was I special…was I unique…?

There I go again, spouting off nonsense you didn’t come here to read. I apologize.

“My favorite season?” I responded. “Umm, well…can’t I like them all?”

“Yes...wait, no! No you can’t! Except, well…maybe you can? People like more than one thing, don’t they? I’m pretty sure people like lots of different things. But that’s a stupid answer. Can’t you pick one? I want you to just pick one, your most favoritest. That’s not hard, is it? It’s probably pretty soft, then. What’s a soft question, anyways?”

A soft question? I’d never really thought about that before. It made sense though; hard and soft go together, right? Except, no…no, that’s not right. Hard and easy go together too. “A soft…question?” I wondered aloud. “I guess…wouldn’t a soft question be like an easy question?”

“Mmm…maybe,” she answered as she dished the omelets onto two plates. “But I regress. Or, digress. Progress. One of those words, I think. Sometimes I use words that don’t mean things when I mean them to mean things; I think it’s mean for words to mean different meanings. I mean, why not just use a different word instead? Less confusing, and I get confused easily. But you probably already know that by now. Or, maybe you don’t. Do you?”

I nodded, grabbing a fork and beginning to dig into my breakfast. The flavor! It was…good! Probably made even better since I thought is was going to be average at best; Miss Flandre was quite the little chef. It made me wonder just what other hidden skills the girl had hidden up her sleeve. Being cooped up downstairs like this probably gave her plenty of time for hobbies. That is, when she was sane enough to focus on them, which I still wondered about. She seemed odd, no doubts there, and stars above did she ever talk! But…insane? Perhaps I just didn’t know the meaning.

As we ate our not-so-humble meal together, my mind subconsciously settled on an answer to Flandre’s earlier question. I felt it only right to tell her; she had asked me, after all, even if she had since forgotten.

[ ] “…Spring.”
[ ] “…Summer.”
[ ] “…Autumn.”
[ ] “…Winter.”
>> No. 28659
Hello there, Humpty Dumpty!

[x] “…Spring.”
>> No. 28660
[ ] “…Summer.”

There already is someone for the other seasons. Another fairy for Spring, a Yuki-onna for Winter, two godesses for Autumn, and no one for summer (yet).
>> No. 28661
[ ] “…Spring.”
>> No. 28663
[X] “…Summer.”
>> No. 28664
[X] “…Summer.”
>> No. 28665
[ ] “…Spring.”
>> No. 28666
[X] “…Summer.”
>> No. 28667
[X] “…Summer.”

It`s summer!
>> No. 28669
>Flandre
>reading glasses
..
.

.

...


.
.

..




.
HHHHHNNNNNGGGGGGGGG~

[X] “…Summer.”
>> No. 28671
6 votes for Summer.
3 votes for Spring.
1 vote for Winter.

No Lily White impersonator in this story, then. I doubt this choice is going to affect our protagonist that much, but...well, we'll see, hmm? Summer it is, writing now.

And I just realized that I miscounted my updates; >>28514 didn't have a number. So next update is actually #13. My mistake.

>>28669
Glasses moe~
>> No. 28672
>[x] Monsoon

This lateness breaks my heart
>> No. 28673
>>28658
And with this update, I finally began to love this Flandre. Vocabulary tangent moe~
>> No. 28675
So much for two updates yesterday. Here’s an extra-long update to make up for it~

“…Summer.”

Flandre cocked her head in my direction, a piece of delicious egg already in her mouth. “Whugt?”

“You asked me my favorite season. I just remembered. It’s summer.”

“Hgow chome shummergh?”

“Well, it’s…I know that spring is when nature grows and all, but summer is when Nature really lives. Everything’s green and full, just like it should be. Plus it just feels…well, strong, if that makes any sense. I’ve always wanted to be stronger, I guess.”

She nodded and swallowed her mouthful, then shoveled the rest of it into her mouth and stood up, taking the dishes to the sink. “Most of you others say spring without thinking about it, you know. Once they get over being afraid of me. Which I guess I can understand. One of these days I should probably go upstairs more and stop all those rumors. Giving me a bad reputation. Of course, with my luck, I’ll just have another accident and make it worse. Remi says she hates it more than me, how all you fairies seem to be afraid of me. Says she feels like she’s let me down or something. No, no; hardly. I let her, more like. I just don’t know how to tell her that. One day…one day maybe…The days, the days, they slips aways, forever and ever, and ever and always…”

As Flandre slipped into a quiet mumbling to herself, reciting some odd poem or song, I finished up my breakfast and brought the dishes over to the sink. Rumors of fear…I knew even better than her how those rumors circulated. Most were obviously false, and it’s a wonder how they even got started. But even in rumors you can find some sort of truth, and if most of the rumors were negative, did that mean that most of the real truth was negative as well? Or were rumors just rumors? I wished…I wished that some of; no, that most of those rumors didn’t even exist. They were misleading. Not even an hour with the young lady, and I could see that the things about Flandre I shied away from weren’t the things I’d heard about. But still…the fear couldn’t have just been from her mountains of words. There had to be something, something truly dangerous about her. I just feared what it was, and if (or when) it was going to come up.

“You can, you can do the dishes here, since you’re the maid and I don’t want to right now, ‘cause I don’t want to right now. I’m gonna go get dressed for a day. Just put everything back like it was; I’ve got a system. I don’t like it when peoples come and mess up my system. Spent a lot of time on that system…” She trailed off again as she walked out of the room, muttering about systems and words related to systems, leaving me to fend for myself on the clean up. Remembering the countless times before I had scrubbed dishes at Sakuya’s bequest, I set my mind back into the role of the insignificant maid I was and got to work.

Only a few seconds after I had put the last dish back into the cupboards, I heard Flandre calling for me.

“Hey little fairy-type person girl, can you come over here, please? My wings are stuck again. Or…well, I guess it’s just again for me. You wouldn’t know about again yet. So, my wings are just stuck then.”

Hastening out of the kitchen and across Flandre’s room, I found her in a small dressing room with her hands on the base of her wings, fiddling with something. I quickly turned away out of modesty when I realized all she had on was her underpants; not even a shirt. “Umm, would you mind putting a shirt or something on, miss? I don’t want to embarrass you.”

I heard her sigh and walk towards me, then felt her hand on my shoulder as she forcibly turned me back around. That hand…she had barely touched me, and yet just a finger or two was enough to spin me around like I was made of nothing. Even now I shudder at the thought of what kind of accidental damage she could have done if she had pulled me a little harder.

Tilting my chin up, she made me look into her eyes, those ruby red eyes of hers. Look as I might, I didn’t find any sort of “insanity” in those eyes. Then again, what did insane eyes look like? I’d never seem them before; I didn’t know. No, just normal, calm, centuries-old vampire eyes.

“That’s awful nice, do you know that?” she said. “I’m pretty sure that I think I know that you fairy-types don’t like clothes much—don’t understand them much either—but you still care about other people’s clothes just all the same. But look now: you’re a girl-type person, and I’m a girl-type person. There’s no boy-type people down here, never have been, not ever even once. Well, unless maybe some boy-type people built my room for me, but they’d be dead now anyhow. And your skin stuff is just like my skin stuff; you’ve probably seen it lotsa times before when you take a bath. Probably. Maybe. I don’t know, maybe you haven’t, I haven’t seen you take a bath, so I could be wrong. But I’m probably not wrong, right?”

I nodded meekly. She did have a point, I supposed. Not a point I understood completely, but well enough to know what she way trying to say.

“So don’t worry ‘bout me embarrassing you or you embarrassing me, k? It’s already hard enough worrying about everything else without worrying about the little stuff that’s not everything else. Now get back behind me and stop worrying. I need you to help me take my wings off.”

My eyes grew a little wider as I stepped back a half-pace. What had she just said?! “You wings…come, off?

She nodded. “Mhm, they have to, ‘cause what if they break or something? These are my old pair of wings, though; I just use ‘em for bedtime nowadays. They’re not really that good, it was just my first try after all. Anyways, go around back; there’s a little…umm, screw nut type deal thing, at the base. I can’t get any torque on it; stupid mechanical advantage leverage principals, thinking they own the world, making my wings all annoying like this. Newton-meters foot-pounds, mumble grumble…”

Looking at where the wings met her back again (ugh, that seam where they met just looked so ghastly…), I found the “screw nut type deal thing” she was talking about. She was right, it was definitely stuck, but I felt like with a little work they’d come off. As I twisted on her wings, I couldn’t help but ask her:

“So, umm…you don’t have to answer this but—“

“Why do my wings have to come off?” she interrupted, turning her head over her shoulder. “Yeah, you all ask me that on your first day. Makes sense, since it’s really weird. It’s because I’m…well, I guess I’m afraid? Afraid of being too strong. I’m too strong already but…don’t want to be too too strong. My wings, they’re like…hmm, what’s a word? Bird’s not the word, not this time. Birderies? Batteries. Reverse batteries, that’s a good word to use. They don’t give me energy, they take it away instead. I switch ‘em so the charge doesn’t build up too much. You ever seen a battery just kinda explode? No, prolly not. But we don’t want that. That would be bad. And bad things are bad, not very good at all, no. Don’t forget that connector pin, that’s gotta come out too.”

I slipped off the screw and tugged on the wing, my hands shaking twice as much as before. Her wings stored her excess power? And they could…explode?! Was I holding some kind of energy bomb in my hands right then? And…what happened for the few minutes when she had no wings on, then? Would she—no, no, I had to stay focused. I wasn’t there to be afraid, had to be braver. The wing slid off her back gently, and I set it down on the ground like it was made of the most fragile glass ever, more afraid of the wing now than Flandre herself.
>> No. 28676
Even though I knew what I was doing as I worked on her second wing, it felt like it took hours. Bombs. Flandre was carrying bombs on her back, at all times, raw magic stored inside, what, these multi-colored crystals? What happened if one of them broke; how much damage could it do? And how much would it hurt if I was right there when it happened? Horrible questions, horrible questions I didn’t want to ask myself, but couldn’t keep my brain from asking all by itself. I was only just a little fairy, after all; this was all so new, so big for me. The more I found out about Flandre, the more she confused me. The fear…was it just the fear of the unknown that we all didn’t like? Flandre was a mystery to us, so we hid from it, afraid of what the truth might be…?

Honestly now, if I keep going on hypothetical tangents like this, you’ll be thinking that I’m the insane one.

Her wings removed, I stepped back from my charge, not wishing to keep any closer to those…things. She rolled her bare shoulders, probably glad that the weight was off her back for a while. I must admit, without her wings and just standing there, barely clothed at all, she looked…normal. Small skinny body, tangled gold hair, young flat chest…She could have passed for a human if it weren’t for her eyes. She didn’t really look that scary at all.

She slid back a panel on the far wall, revealing a secret steel door which she unbarred and pushed open. I couldn’t see exactly what was in there, but she came back with a different pair of wings, trading them for the ones on the ground. These ones looked much nicer by far: smooth polished metal instead of the old rusted kind, curving elegantly like a tapestry. With her guidance I helped her put the new wings back in, and she picked out some clothes for herself, that red skirt and vest over a pink shirt you readers are all so familiar with, yes? What an odd coincidence that she would pick those clothes for that day; there were plenty of other garments in the closet to choose from.

“Thanks, little helper-person,” she complimented, patting me on the head as we returned to her main room. “See, that wasn’t so bad, right? I know I’m supposed to be dangerous and all—I am, I guess—but it’s not like I’m some kind of monster, right? At least, well, I don’t think so. But monsters can’t tell if they’re monsters, can they? I wouldn’t think so. No perspective. Gotta have perspective if you want to say things that people’ll listen to. Maybe that’s why no one knows how to listen to me: no perspective. Speaking of perspective, I need your perspective on things. You know what perspective is, right?”

I nodded again. “Yes, Miss. It’s, umm, like my idea of what’s going on, yes?”

“That sounds like a sound I’m liking, yeah. So I want to do things, right? Since I’m a person, and people do things every day, you know? But my sister says I have to make sure that I’m making sense first. Maybe that’s why you’re here: to make sure I make sense. So okay, I’ve got a plan for today and stuff. I need to fix my room up sometime, visit Dr. Patchouli for my Friday lessons, restock the pantry, and I was thinking I could snoop around those big basement closets again for something fun to put in my room. Oh, and movie! Tonight’s the night I get to pick the movie at the theatre, but don’t let nobody know; it’s a secret. I bet you fairies didn’t know I went to the movies with you on Fridays, did you? Course, I sit upstairs in the back, so yeah. That all makes sense, right? There’s nothing crazy in there?”

Fix the room…lessons with Patchouli (Doctor? Never heard her called that before)…pantry…closet…movie…Sounded all good to me. Except maybe the closet bit, and perhaps the movie bit, but I could always double-check with Mistress Remilia or Sakuya, right?

“That sounds perfectly all right to me, Miss Flandre,” I responded, bowing my head to her. “Which would to like to take care of first?”

She puffed out one of her cheeks and looked up at the ceiling. “Mmm, I dunno, I’m not a good decision-make-person. Don’t really care, either. When it gets done, it gets done, right? And it’s all gotta get done anyways. I’ll let you choose instead, ‘cause I’m trying to be a good girl.”

[ ] “Well, why not clean up your room first? Just get it out of the way now.”
[ ] “Restocking the pantry’s easy; I have to do that all the time. We can do that first.”
[ ] “Perhaps you could get your lessons out of the way first; I think Miss Patchouli would appreciate it.”
[ ] “Snooping in the closets? That sounds oddly fun. You’re sure you won’t get in trouble, right?”
>> No. 28677
[ ] “Restocking the pantry’s easy; I have to do that all the time. We can do that first.”
>> No. 28678
[x] “Restocking the pantry’s easy; I have to do that all the time. We can do that first.”
>> No. 28679
[ ] “Restocking the pantry’s easy; I have to do that all the time. We can do that first.”
Yes, let's do the easy stuff first
>> No. 28680
[x] “Restocking the pantry’s easy; I have to do that all the time. We can do that first.”

Breaking the 4th wall eh? Good stuff.
>> No. 28681
>>28680
4th wall? where? i didnt notice
>> No. 28682
[x] “Restocking the pantry’s easy; I have to do that all the time. We can do that first.”
>> No. 28683
[x] “Restocking the pantry’s easy; I have to do that all the time. We can do that first.”
>> No. 28684
>>28681

>With her guidance I helped her put the new wings back in, and she picked out some clothes for herself, that red skirt and vest over a pink shirt you readers are all so familiar with, yes?
>> No. 28685
Good job, Tepes, this is going good. I'll need to reverse enginneer this to see exactly what makes this work... I'm hoping to increase readers for MA without blatantly advertising its unification of all CYOAs.

...Wait. I think I just blatantly advertised iits unification of all CYOAs. Oh, well.

Still, I digress.

[ ] “Restocking the pantry’s easy; I have to do that all the time. We can do that first.”
>> No. 28686
>unification of all CYOAs.

There's your problem.
>> No. 28687
>>28685
I'm going to be brutally honest with you:

Advertising the CYOA as a unifier between a bunch of different, separate, and unrelated stories makes it sound fucking retarded.

I wasn't planning on reading it and now I'm damn sure I'm not going to.
>> No. 28688
7 Votes for the pantry.

Gonna be out of town with some friends today, but I'll try and write an update later tonight after I get back. Probably in a new thread since this one might as well be in autosage.

Since it's the end of the thread, I guess I'll ask, how are you liking the story so far? Too confusing? Not enough plot? Not enough voting options? Too slow? I can't really tell what you people like or not, and I really want this to be a good story. But still, thanks for all your support so far, cause getting a CYOA past one thread these days is pretty hard!

>>28684
I don't really think this counts, though. See, the narrator is reading the story to you, like she's in a rocking chair and you're in the room at her feet listening. You can't really break the fourth wall if there was never a fourth wall to begin with.

>>28685
Thank you~

But a unification of CYOAs? That sounds weird. I guess it could work, but I think those other posters are right: you shouldn't advertise that out-loud. Just write.
>> No. 28691
Oh hell... what a lack of sleep will do to a person's reason. Though I'd rather not keep on this (I was actually going to delete the original post) I felt just one thing needed clearing up.

>>28687
You're absolutely right. A CYOA completely based on unifying others would in fact be idiotic and, furthermore, a complete waste of time. This is not the case, it's not even a major plot point (my whole mentioning of it was in fact pretty pointless).

>>28688
You're right. Hard as it may be, I do need to make updating a little more of a forceful habit.

And sorry about cluttering the thread up with this. I'll work to keep it from happening again.